Leave Your Glasses On
by Metal-Panda-Alex
Summary: AU. Santana Lopez - geek, prematurely outed lesbian, and crushing on a girl that probably hates her. But as she settles into her final year at McKinley, Santana wonders: could there be more to Brittany Pierce than she thought? Nerd!Santana/Badass!Brittany
1. Nerd vs High School

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**I know what you're all thinking - yet another fic? Well, this one's been bubbling away on the back-burner for quite a long time now. It wasn't until we saw Santana 'playing' Artie in Props that I really got the drive to do it. Though mainly I do have my beta - rynluna - to thank for getting me motivated to do this - you would not believe some of the bizarre brainstorming sessions we've had.  
**

**Anyhoo, let's get the ball rolling...  
**

**~xxx~**

In some high schools, status is everything. Everyone knows that. You're probably thinking to yourself that you didn't have it so bad, right? Well for some, earning and maintaining it are the most important goals of their young lives. Who cares if it won't mean a thing once you graduate? It's one of those things that you'll laugh about in the years to come, but while you're there, it's all that counts. For decades, the status quo has remained the same – jocks and cheerleaders at the top, geeks and misfits at the bottom, and everyone else somewhere in the middle trying not to slip down the ladder.

For Santana Lopez, her place at the very bottom of this social structure was something she had long since come to accept. No one goes to high school intending to be downtrodden by everyone else, but Santana had always known it would happen. That didn't mean she liked it, but being able to give a lecture on how Warp Drive works isn't exactly the sort of trait that would win a person many friends. When she was younger, Santana's preference for things typically meant for boys was seen as cute – a quirk of character. But as she got older, as more and more of her friends became distant, Santana was forced to face up to an uncomfortable truth – she was a nerd.

Not the hardest of hardcore nerds, mind you – that honor was taken by Jacob Ben Israel – but even so, she wasn't far off. It used to bother her; the way people talked. So what if she could name pretty much any Transformer from their vehicle modes alone? So what her iPod was mostly full of movie soundtracks and theme songs from 90's cartoons? After a while, however, she accepted it. Logical as always, she reasoned that after high school, things would get better – people wouldn't be so quick to judge in the real world, right?

Oh yeah, and she was outed as a lesbian during her freshman year.

So maybe some people would always judge her. Couple that with her position as one of William McKinley High School's resident geeks, and she didn't exactly have much room to kick downwards. In terms of status, it didn't get much lower than being Santana Lopez.

To her credit, she was pulling straight A's in all subjects. School work had never really offered her much of a challenge, and she had often seen it as some cruel joke that the one thing she was truly good at – the thing everyone was always_ told_ they should be focusing on – was as much a source of derision as her liking for sci-fi and comic books. She'd never understood why smart students were picked on; they were there to learn, after all. Surely the academically able students should be revered? Looked up to by those less able than herself? But no, being smart was just another reason she received weekly slushy facials. It was almost always an air-headed cheerleader, or a dim-witted quarterback – though on some occasions it would even be one of the 'normal' kids, put up to it by their friends for a laugh.

It had become so routine that Santana barely flinched anymore. The icy sting was just as familiar as the laughter that usually accompanied it; just as familiar as the tears that always followed it. Being used to it didn't mean she was immune to it. Santana remembered one particular day when she was just on her way to clean herself up after receiving a slushy from a particularly nasty cheerleader, when one of her cronies ambushed her outside the toilets and gave her another one there and then.

And that was how Snix was born.

Snix – or 'rage-Santana' – was a character she had invented during sophomore year. Inspired by the Incredible Hulk, no less, Snix was the embodiment of everything Santana secretly wished she could be; popular, respected, and most importantly – accepted. Santana pictured herself as one of the Cheerios – maybe even captain – stalking the hallways, with crowds parting before her for fear of incurring her wrath. This Santana would be top of the pyramid; the 'it' girl of McKinley High. She'd have the cheerleading squad in her pocket, the jocks but a sweet smile away, and who knows – maybe even a hot girlfriend to hold her hand and share her glory. It was a complete fantasy, but sometimes Santana found herself bordering on depression when she reminded herself that it would never happen. Who could even picture Santana Lopez as a 'hot bitch in command'?

Certainly no one at this school. Especially considering that she had been so lost in thought that she was now sprawled on her back in the middle of the hallway, having walked right into someone.

"Hey, watch it," a harsh voice snapped. "With four eyes I thought you'd be able to see better."

A few nearby students chuckled, and watched with smirks as Santana slowly sat up, pushing her glasses back up her nose. How many times had she broken them by doing exactly what she'd just done? Groaning, she clambered to her feet, pulling her bag further up her shoulder. The Latina wanted nothing more than to get away from the staring students, but not before she at least got a look at who she'd hit. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her worst fears.

Brittany S. Pierce.

Instantly recognisable by her battered leather jacket, worn jeans and tangled mane of blonde hair, Brittany Pierce was one of the more well-known students at McKinley. She was also the last person you wanted to fuck with. In fact, it was entirely because of this enigmatic girl that Santana had worked out her own personal system for calculating a student's status relative to their peers. Before coming across Brittany, Santana had assumed that popularity was everything; the more friends you had, the higher up the social chain you found yourself. But all that had changed at the start of her junior year. She had been on vacation with her family at the end of Summer, and due to her father's work commitments, had been forced to overlap their two-week trip with the start of term. It was all cleared with the school itself – that wasn't the problem. The problem was that when Santana returned, it was to find things had changed somewhat at McKinley.

The tall blonde had transferred in from another school, apparently the same one Noah Puckerman had attended as a freshman before coming to McKinley. Now Noah – or Puck as he was called – was a badass. Everyone knew that. But he had the whole 'lovable rogue' thing going on, and was definitely far more approachable than the other jocks he often hung out with.

Brittany Pierce was anything but 'lovable.'

If there was an illustrated dictionary definition of the word 'badass,' it would be Brittany. Little over a month after starting at McKinley, a pair of idiots from the football team had picked a fight with her. They claimed Brittany had insulted them, but conceded they'd made the first move. Now these are big guys we're talking about – the kind you could picture winding up as pro-wrestlers or club bouncers. Two huge guys picking a fight with a single girl, alone in the school parking lot. The next day, McKinley was abuzz with the news – David Karofsky and Azimio Adams were in the hospital, one with a broken nose and fractured ribs, the other with a broken arm and torn ligaments in one leg.

And Brittany? Not a scratch on her.

Ever since then, no one had dared give the blonde any trouble. At first, Santana had been positive Brittany would be expelled – beyond the bubble of high school, what she had done would have been considered assault, or even grievous bodily harm. And yet somehow, nothing happened. There were rumours that Brittany came from an incredibly wealthy family, and a large anonymous donation had been made to the school's budget – though no one dared ask. Santana was partly shocked that such a thing had been allowed to happen. But honestly? Mostly, she was impressed. Santana had lived her life with the constant bullying – because she was a nerd, because she was gay – sometimes just because she was a girl. And there was Brittany Pierce, so brave and so _strong_, able to fight off two guys all on her own.

Santana had heard murmurs that some people actually thought Brittany was a guy in drag – how else could she have come out of that fight unscathed? Santana had pondered this, but an overheard conversation between two girls from Brittany's phys ed class had put paid to that theory.

'_Did you see her in the showers?'_ one had asked. _'How the hell does a girl get that muscly and still have tits? Jesus Christ…'_

And if anyone would have accused Santana of dreaming about a naked Brittany, surrounded by steam and dripping with water, she would have denied it til her dying day.

One hundred percent true, though.

So yes, Brittany had made things quite interesting with her whirlwind arrival. She had certainly changed Santana's perception of a great many things, that's for sure. This system she had devised – in direct response to Brittany's position as new top dog – went something like this: every student as a score out of a possible hundred points. A maximum of fifty are gained through popularity, and another fifty through how plain terrified people were of them – or their 'fear factor', as Santana called it. Quinn Fabray, captain of the Cheerios and Noah Puckerman's on-again, off-again, did you really do that behind the bike sheds-again girlfriend, scored a total of seventy-five. A full fifty points for popularity – the student body adored her – and then twenty-five for her fear factor. Quinn wasn't very imposing herself, but she was still capable of calling in the various jocks she hung out with to do her bidding. Under Santana's old view of things, Quinn would have been at the top – by simply being the most popular. But a different blonde had changed that. Brittany seemed to have quite a few friends of her own, or at least people she hung out with. Not jocks or cheerleaders, but there were still a fair few of them. Santana scored Brittany's popularity at about thirty-five, or thereabouts. But of course, her fear factor was the full fifty – giving her a total of eighty-five, putting her status above Quinn's.

And that's how it worked. Everyone had a balance of popularity and scariness, and at the end of it all, Brittany S Pierce came out on top. She wasn't the most popular girl in school, but unlike Dave Karofsky – whose status was built on fear alone – Brittany was at least liked by enough people to elevate herself to the top of the pyramid. A good number of people seemed to like her, and those that didn't were too afraid to even contemplate crossing her.

By her own calculations, Santana scored a measly five points. No one was afraid of her, and she had a grand total of four people she could call friends – even some of the school's nerds didn't like her, though she silently put that down to her refusal to join their anti-Michael Bay rally last year. Her closest friend was Artie Abrams; the first person who had spoken to her on her very first day. He had admitted it was simply because he recognised the logo on the shirt she'd been wearing as coming from a video game he liked, but their shared enjoyment of various comic books had given them plenty to bond over. Then there was Sam Evans; ostracised when it was discovered just how poverty-stricken his family was, he had been taken in by their merry band of geeks and finally had a place to express his love of sci-fi movies. And finally their foursome was rounded out by Nicole, a fairly hardcore anime fan who often bemoaned the fact that she wasn't born Japanese. Santana would never admit it, but Snix was so sick of the word 'kawaii' that she was pretty damn close to grabbing that stupid Pikachu keyring of Nicole's and stuffing it down her throat.

But that is why Snix didn't exist.

As she finally got away from the last few people that had seen the 'incident' in the corridor, Santana's thoughts turned back to the future. She was in her senior year; it was meant to be the best time of her life, and yet she was still 'punished' on an almost daily basis for being different. She didn't have a clue as to why Brittany Pierce was so harsh to a lot of people – or so worryingly capable in a fistfight – but she was still unable to deny her admiration for the blonde. The only word Santana had ever said to Brittany was 'sorry' – multiple times, usually after similar accidents to the one still replaying in her mind. Brittany, on the other hand, had a whole slew of colourful insults and put-downs in her arsenal. The Cheerios were known for their catty remarks, but everyone knew Brittany was always able to put them in their place with her quick-witted tongue.

And deep down, though she'd never admit it, Santana couldn't help but feel somewhat turned on by it all. Even when Brittany's ire was directed at her, there was something about that voice; the way her bright blue eyes seemed to blaze as she spoke. The Latina knew full-well that it was probably pretty unhealthy to think like that, but she couldn't help it – Brittany was the ultimate bad girl, and that was quite clearly Santana's thing.

Just as she felt her face beginning to grow warm, a pair of familiar red and white uniforms appeared in front of her, and seconds later Santana's face was freezing cold, the sting of the sloppy wet mess burning just as fiercely as her blushing had moments before.

She'd made an idiot of herself in front of the most feared girl at McKinley, and then received a double-slushy facial, all in a matter of minutes.

Yep, just another day for Santana Lopez.


	2. Drowned Rat in a Chevy

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! Really means a lot that people want to see more of this fic. While I'm here - anyone reading my other Brittana AU, 'Heart of Iron' - the next chapter should be ready in the next few days - it's far from abandoned!  
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**~xxx~**

Sometimes, Santana wondered just why she bothered to dry herself after being slushied. Some days it could happen as many as three times; she'd barely dried out before being forced yet again to clean herself up. But today it was for a different reason – it was pouring with rain. Santana stood just outside the school's main doors, sheltered by a small roof that extended over the entrance. The sky was a dark, angry gray; thunder rumbling in the distance. Rain lashed the streets, hitting the ground with such force that it bounced back up in a fine mist. The parking lot was empty, save for a few cars Santana assumed belonged to staff, and there wasn't a student in sight; classes having finished two hours ago.

It was a Tuesday, and that meant Santana and her friends had stayed for their Comic Book Club. She sometimes wondered whether it was really worth it, but she would have been lying if she'd said it wasn't nice to have likeminded people to talk to. While the others had already left, Santana had offered to stay behind to tidy up. Given that all they did was read and talk, they hardly made what could be called a mess. But the Latina was stalling, dreading the walk home; it had been raining all day, and without a car of her own, Santana knew she would likely get soaked.

And so she stood, staring out into the miserable weather, knowing exactly what she had to do. She reached down and grabbed the pile of binders and books that couldn't fit in her bag, before pulling her coat a little tighter around herself and stepping out from her shelter, wincing as the bullet-like drops of water hit her face. Her glasses instantly became as good as useless, and she quickly pocketed them, gritting her teeth as a particularly strong gust of wind blew hair into her face. Forever grateful that no one was there to see her in such a state, Santana set off. The walk home usually took about half an hour on a clear day, but the wind and rain was making it rather difficult to so much as move in a straight line. She tried to focus on other things, desperately attempting to ignore the sting of the rain. But try as she might, it was impossible to pretend she wasn't already drenched; her coat was far from waterproof, and she could already feel the shirt beneath it sticking to her skin.

To say she was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Santana trudged onwards, wincing every time the wind picked up and blasted against her sodden clothes. She shuddered, clutching her folders closer to her chest and hoping against hope that the plastic covers protecting her science notes weren't leaking. With the thick clouds blocking the sun – which would already be close to setting if it weren't hidden – it was already getting surprisingly dark; the headlamps from passing cars shone through the gloom, illuminating the streaks of rain. If anything, it was only getting heavier.

And just when she thought her struggle home couldn't have been more unpleasant, Santana got the shock her life. She heard the car coming, of course, but was unprepared for it to swerve right up against the curb, driving headlong through the water collected there. The torrent of spray felt more like a wave than a splash as it engulfed the Latina's shaking body, causing her to drop everything she had been carrying. As the books and folders hit the ground, Santana could only stand, rooted to the spot as she watched the car continuing on it's way. And just to top it off, a head appeared from a rear window.

"Loser!" a female voice shouted, to a chorus of male laughter from within the vehicle. Had she been in better spirits, Santana would have mentally scoffed at the childish insult. But at present, she was far from feeling anything other than miserable.

She was certain the voice belonged to Quinn Fabray, but the speed at which it had happened and the roar of the rain made it impossible to place for sure. And besides, Santana was hardly in the mood to care. In contrast to the freezing rainwater, the tears now forming in her eyes were hot, burning down her cheeks as they were absorbed by the rain still hitting her face.

Holding back a choked sob, she slowly bent down to retrieve her scattered belongings. The books were probably ruined, she mused, and by now the folders containing her notes were completely sodden. She heard another car approaching, and half-heartedly braced herself in case more of Quinn's friends were driving it. Instead, and to her surprise, she heard the car come to a stop. For a moment, she panicked – young girl alone in the rain, on her hands and knees on the sidewalk with her ass in the air? Yeah, that's not a neon sign for creepers at all. In a vain attempt to reassure herself, she noted that she was already in a residential area – maybe this person lived here? As if on cue, she heard the car door open and footsteps splashing upon the pavement.

Once again, Santana braced herself, too terrified to look up at this newcomer. But then, surprise filling her again, Santana saw a pair of hands pulling a couple of her books from the sidewalk - someone had stopped to _help_ her. Infinitely grateful, Santana finally dared to look up at this kind stranger, and promptly wished she hadn't.

The last thing she needed while crawling around in the pouring rain was to be rendered speechless by Brittany Pierce's bright blue eyes.

The blonde only looked at her for a second, before grabbing the last book and standing back to full height. Without a word, she pulled the door open and threw Santana's books onto the passenger seat, before settling into the driver's seat herself. Santana stood there, frozen in place as she stared. This wasn't real, was it? Brittany Pierce had just shown up out of nowhere – in pretty much the most badass looking black classic car Santana could think of – and had helped her pick up her books. But then…surely that meant…

"Get in," Brittany said. She didn't raise her voice over the rain, but Santana understood. She wanted to argue; to ask if this was some kind of joke; planned as a follow-up to Quinn's friends splashing her. But after the horrendous experience she had had only getting halfway home, she didn't care. Moving quickly, Santana stepped around the car and climbed in, grabbing the books Brittany had rescued and stacking them with the others. The moment Santana closed her door, they were moving. The engine purred a low rumble – Santana was no car expert, but even she couldn't help but be impressed by the vehicle she now found herself in.

She swallowed, and finally turned her attention to the driver. Brittany looked almost bored, and made no sign of acknowledging the Latina's presence. Whether through embarrassment or fear, Santana was unable to form words, and instead turned her eyes to the windshield. She wanted to ask a hundred and one questions – why had Brittany Pierce of all people stopped to help her? Why was she driving her – wait, where _was_ she driving her? Did Brittany know where she lived?

Of course, the cruel laws of reality would have Brittany interrupt just as the shorter girl was about to finally speak.

"Santana, right?" she asked, still not turning to the other girl.

"Yeah," the brunette replied quietly, silently thrilled that Brittany Pierce actually knew her name. Although, she reasoned, maybe that was simply due to how often people called her name in the corridors and then pretended they didn't.

"Any reason you were out there?" Brittany continued. "Or do you just like getting soaked down to your superhero granny panties?"

"I…uh…don't have a car," the Latina mumbled, her cheeks reddening despite the cold.

"You're shitting me," the blonde scoffed, and for a brief moment she turned to the other girl. _Those eyes._ "Seriously?"

"Well I never really needed one…" Santana said, her voice still quiet and unsure under Brittany's gaze. "I live close enough to school, you see, and that's all I'd use it for – no point paying for gas and insurance when it's the only trip I'd make."

"Yeah, but what happens if you wanna go out somewhere?" Brittany went on, frowning and smirking at the same time. "Don't you and your legion of geeks go to those convention things or something?"

"Uhh…yeah, but Sam has a car, so…" the brunette trailed off, looking away. This was really happening, wasn't it? She was in Brittany S. Pierce's car, not being beaten to a pulp, having a conversation with her. Maybe she'd slipped over in the rain and this was all a hallucination?

"Don't think I could live without mine," Brittany's voice cut in, wrenching Santana from her thoughts.

"Well it's a gorgeous car," Santana said quickly, looking around again as if to emphasise her point. "It's in really good condition."

"It was a barn find," Brittany said, tapping the steering wheel fondly. "When I found it, the only people who'd been in it for ten years were a family of really pissed off mice."

At that, Santana couldn't help but laugh. She leant back into the headrest, still chuckling at the blonde's words. It wasn't until she realised Brittany was staring at her, stony faced, that her own smile faded and she once again went red. "I…uh…that was funny, I thought…"

"When I first moved here, I spent the summer wandering around a load of fields and woods," Brittany explained, clearly ignoring Santana's embarrassing moment and turning to the road again. "Found this baby and had it brought home. Gave me something to do, I guess."

"You must have been pretty far out; I didn't even know we had fields and woods," Santana commented, but Brittany just shrugged.

"I had a lot of free time."

"I thought you had loads of friends, though?" the Latina went on, her voice a little stronger now. "Didn't they want to do anything with you?"

"Fuck no," Brittany scoffed, shaking her head. "I know a lot of people, sure – but they're not what'd I'd call friends." She let out a deep breath. "I only ever really had one friend, and he's off fucking little miss perfect cheerleader."

"You mean Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray?"

"Woah, easy there genius – don't wear that brain of yours out on my account." Santana turned away, hating herself for a brief moment; the aggressive tone in Brittany's voice had sent a familiar jolt down her spine.

"I had no idea you and Noah used to be friends," she said quietly. For a moment, there was a flicker of something in Brittany's eyes; sadness? Regret?

"We still hang out sometimes," the blonde said, shrugging again. "But Puck came here a whole year before I did. By the time I arrived, that bitch had her claws in him."

That made sense. Puck had arrived at the start of sophomore year, Brittany at the start of junior year. No one really knew much about the school they had gone to before McKinley, but people assumed it must have been in a bad area to have produced both Puck and Brittany. Santana suddenly found herself curious as to just what made the both of them move schools, and a year apart from each other at that. And yet, she felt something strange bubbling inside her as she pondered.

"Were you and he…um…" The Latina murmured, realising a little too late that the feeling had been jealously. '_I thought you were telling yourself it was just a crush, Lopez,_' a voice in her head scoffed. '_You suck._'

"No, never," Brittany replied, clearly oblivious to Santana's internal conflict. Still, she didn't exactly sound happy. "Puck's not my type. And I certainly don't want anyone who's been near Fabray."

"So…what…uh…is your type?" Santana asked before she could stop herself. She instantly regretted it, as at that exact moment, the car screeched to a halt. The brunette rocked forwards, seatbelt cutting into her briefly. She looked ahead, but could only see rain illuminated by the headlamps. Was Brittany just going to dump her here? She couldn't blame her; that question had been out of line. Still, walking the rest of the way in the rain – maybe if she apologised…

"We're here."

"What?" Santana looked up and found the blonde staring at her, once again expressionless.

"This is your place, right?" Brittany asked, nodding at her window. Santana squinted; the gloomy street beyond the window was a blurry haze. With even more embarrassment, she remembered her glasses were still in her pocket. She quickly pulled them out, wiped the lenses, and put them back on. Instantly, the familiar exterior of her home came into focus. She still wanted to know exactly how Brittany knew where she lived, but she got the distinct impression that she'd asked enough questions for tonight.

"Oh, yeah," she finally managed, gathering her books together. "Thanks, Brittany."

"Gonna start charging a fare if you don't get out in the next five seconds," the blonde said, and Santana found herself unable to tell if she was joking or not.

Quickly, she pulled the door open and stepped onto the sidewalk. But before she closed it again, she leant down and poked her head back in.

"Thank you," she said, giving the blonde what she hoped came across as a friendly smile. Brittany glanced at her, and simply nodded. Santana had hoped to get another smile out of the blonde, but clearly that was out of the question. Instead, she straightened up and closed the door. She stepped back; despite the rain continuing to beat down upon her, she still wanted to see the other girl off. After a moment, the engine let out what could only be described as a growl, and the car moved off into the dark.

Santana watched until Brittany's taillights had vanished, and no amount of rain or wind could dull the warmth within her chest. Whether or not she and the blonde would ever speak again, she didn't know; but she was glad she had had this brief chance.

Not many people could say they had been given a ride home by Brittany S. Pierce.

**~xxx~**

**For anyone wanting an idea of what Brittany's car looks like, it's a black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS, restored to like-new condition. Was gonna stick a name reference in, but it just felt forced, like a lot of real-world references do in fanfic.  
**


	3. Brittany Pierce: Taxi Driver

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**Have to say, I'm pretty overwhelmed at the response to this fic. I can't believe how much of a response you guys have given it after just two chapters - really encouraging me to keep at it :)  
**

**~xxx~**

The next morning, Santana woke in something of a daze. She could barely remember the events of last night after getting home; she had been back just in time for dinner, exchanged a few brief words with her parents about her day – mostly nodding her head and making 'mmm' noises – before heading upstairs and staying there, staring up at her ceiling for the rest of the evening.

Unsurprisingly, her thoughts were focussed entirely on Brittany Pierce. Last year when she had first set eyes upon the blonde, Santana knew she had fallen hard. Whether it was her looks, her demeanour, or just her general bad-girl image, Brittany had occupied Santana's thoughts for many weeks at the start of their junior year. Of course, she wasn't deluded enough to believe that her feelings would ever be reciprocated – Brittany was tough, popular, and almost certainly straight. Santana had considered adding some sort of extra formula to her popularity equation regarding how large the gap could be between two people's scores before they couldn't possibly date – but it had all been far too depressing for her, smitten as she was.

More than a year later, Santana was pretty sure the feelings had been buried. They hadn't gone away, but she had long since come to accept that nothing would come of it, and had moved on. And she meant it too – she wasn't one of those weirdos that spends hours pining at home with depressing music blaring through her iPod. No, she was far too logical for that; Brittany was out of her league in almost every way, Santana had no experience with any kind of relationship, and she was pretty sure Brittany would break her nose for so much as looking at her the wrong way.

Sometimes she wondered how she had even realised she was a lesbian – it's not like she had ever even been with anyone of either gender.

Oh yeah. She saw Sam naked.

If any clarification had been needed, that was it.

With that rather unwanted mental image, Santana shook herself from her thoughts. As she had been last night, the brunette was staring up at her ceiling, unsure of exactly what time it was. Her mother's voice could be heard downstairs; no doubt talking to one of her friends on the phone. At least she knew she hadn't overslept – her mother left for work only ten minutes before she began her walk to school. Brittany was right, of course – it would be easier if she had a car; it would certainly give her longer in bed every morning. Sighing, she struggled into a sitting position, and rubbed at her eyes with her palm. There was barely any light filtering through her space-themed curtains, and for a moment she was again confused as to what time it was. However, a few moments of remaining motionless and silent told her everything she needed to know.

It was still raining.

She groaned internally, already considering the possibility of retreating back under her Wonder Woman sheets and pulling a sickie. But no, if there's one accolade Santana Lopez had, it was a perfect attendance record. Rolling her eyes at her own inability to break rules, Santana swung her legs out of bed and got to her feet. With barely any light coming through the curtains, she found her eyes straining even more than usual to make out her surroundings. Having stepped on one too many action figures in her life, she first grabbed her glasses from beside her bed, before turning on her desk lamp. The room was bathed in a warm glow, and instantly Santana was greeted with her familiar surroundings; shelves lined with countless models of characters from various movies, games and TV shows; multiple posters depicting the very same people; multiple ceiling-height racks of DVDs and video games. If a stranger was to see her room, Santana was positive they would assume it's owner was a teenage boy.

Her desk was a mess; various sheets of paper from multiple assignments littered it, while several more pieces of memorabilia sat around the edge of it. Once again, she sighed; some of that work was due in today. She turned to the radiator on the other side of her bed, over which she had hung the notes that had been soaked the previous day. Thankfully, none of them were necessary for today's hand-ins, but it still meant rewriting everything from scratch. At least this morning she knew to keep everything in her bag.

Letting out a quiet yawn, Santana padded over to her freestanding wardrobe and opened it, grimacing when she saw her reflection in the mirror attached to the other side of the door. With her hair a tangled mess, eyes red from rubbing them too much, and slightly too-big Batman pajamas, she was a hell of a sight – and not in a good way. Some days she would feel especially pathetic, vow to change her life completely and ditch her nerdy pursuits, and perhaps even try to be more social. Of course this would last all of a single day before she was back to watching her Star Trek boxsets. Just like her feelings for Brittany, the brunette had slowly come to accept that some things were never going to change – these were her interests, and the only person she would be fooling if she attempted to hide them was herself.

Grabbing the first clothes that her hands could reach – a plain gray hoodie and a baggy pair of black sweats – she quickly got dressed and headed downstairs, making a mental note to grab her assignments from her desk before she left. As predicted, her mother was in the kitchen on the phone. Maribel Lopez smiled at her daughter as they made eye contact, mouthing '_It's abuela_' before responding in Spanish. Santana nodded in acknowledgement. She and her grandmother had only recently started speaking again after nearly two years of awkward silences and half-hidden glances during family gatherings. Alma had reacted badly at Santana's coming out, but after realising that by pushing her granddaughter away, she was also losing Santana's parents, she had begun making more of an effort to accept that her 'little Santanita' was a lesbian. Things were far from perfect, but it was one of the few aspects of Santana's life that she really felt was looking up.

Pouring herself some cereal, Santana looked out the kitchen window and felt her heart sink. It really was torrential out there; if anything, worse than the previous evening. She only had one coat, and it was far from waterproof; not only that, but with her locker as full as it was, she'd have to carry it around all day. Not wanting to bother with the hassle, Santana resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be drenched before she even arrived at McKinley. Still, at least she'd barely notice any slushies she received on her way in.

"Do you want me to drive you in?" Maribel asked, having finished her conversation. Santana considered briefly, but decided no – her street cred might be at rock bottom, but she was pretty sure Quinn Fabray and co. would add a few extra notches just to knock her down them if she was seen being driven to school by her mother.

"No, it's fine," she replied, shaking her head dismissively. "I'll be fine. Managed last night, didn't I?"

"Suit yourself," her mother said with a shrug. "Just don't complain when you come home with little fishies swimming in your shoes."

"I'll try not to squash them," Santana said with an appreciative smile when her mother pressed a kiss to her head as she passed behind her.

"I can't believe we don't have a single umbrella in this house," Maribel said with a sigh, pulling on her own coat from the rack by the front door. "I'll pick one up for you on my way home. Weather's meant to stay like this all week."

"Joy," Santana sighed, finished her breakfast and getting back to her feet. "You watch – it'll be clear blue skies next week, knowing the weather we have round here."

"Wouldn't surprise me," her mother replied. Santana heard the front door opening. "Have a nice day, mija!"

"Bye!" she called back, leaving the kitchen just in time to see the door closing.

Heading back upstairs, she quickly gathered her schoolwork together – filed by subject of course – before packing it into her bag. She finally pulled the curtains back, just in time to see her mother's car pulling out of the driveway and heading off into the rain. Left alone to her thoughts, Santana began wondering whether there would be any acknowledgement from Brittany at school. Probably not, she reasoned – if anyone had been around to see them, she was positive the blonde would have simply driven right past. That also ruled out telling her friends what had transpired; if they told other people – not that they had many friends to actually speak to – then word might get out that badass Brittany Pierce helped the least popular girl in school. And that would only mean one thing for Santana – a broken nose, at the very least.

What a way to go, though.

Honestly, Santana was rather pleased that the thought of Brittany hurting her didn't fill her with that same guilty excitement she had felt the previous evening. Maybe she wasn't so weird, after all. Though to be fair – it was about the only Brittany-related thing that didn't excite her. Sometimes she would intentionally linger in certain corridors in the hope that she might see the tall blonde insulting someone.

Okay, totally weird.

She was shaken from her less than honourable thoughts by a rather surprising sound – a car horn. Santana frowned; had her mother decided to come back and insist she took her to school? The Latina moved over to the window and leant on her desk as she peered through it, and it was all she could do to not let out a rather embarrassing noise of surprise. Sat in her driveway, occupying the space usually taken by her mother's car, Santana could see a rather familiar black Chevrolet. From the angle her window afforded her, Santana could just see a pair of hands drumming absent-mindedly against the steering wheel.

Tearing her eyes away from the window, Santana grabbed her back and took off down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. She skidded to a halt in the hallway, pausing in front of the mirror near the front door. And in a single moment, several hundred thoughts ran through her mind: what was Brittany Pierce doing at her house? Why did it have to be on a day when she'd completely forgotten to shower? Why had she been so lazy with her clothing choices? Was this all actually a dream and she was about to wake up for real? Swallowing uncomfortably, the brunette turned away and headed to the front door, gripping the handle awkwardly. Slowly, she opened it and peered out. Sure enough, Brittany was visible behind the wheel, looking down at what Santana could only guess was her phone. The rain and wind was incredibly loud, yet oddly distant at the same time – at least to Santana's ears.

As she stood in the doorway, continuing to stare at Brittany's car as though it were a hallucination, the blonde herself looked up. A smirk ghosted across her lips, before she nodded her head towards the passenger door. Santana didn't need telling twice; locking the front door behind her, she dipped out from the shelter of her porch and quickly pulled the car door open, sliding into the seat.

"You took your time, Specs," Brittany said, tucking her phone into her jacket pocket. "Were you in the middle of rubbing one out over She-Hulk or something?"

"I, uh…" Santana stammered, her cheeks already burning. "I wasn't expecting you."

Brittany just shrugged. "Don't wanna give Fabray the satisfaction of hearing you drowned before she got a chance to slushy you or whatever."

"Uh…thanks, I guess…" Santana replied, buckling her seatbelt as Brittany backed the car onto the road.

As it had been the previous evening, the ride was silent for a while. Santana just clutched her bag in her lap, occasionally chancing a look at Brittany, who kept her eyes forward at all times, once again looking almost bored. Curious, Santana glanced over her shoulder to the back seat, where Brittany's own beaten-looking messenger bag sat. Despite her own vested interest in the blonde, Santana had to confess that she knew little of her academic prowess. They only shared one class – biology – but due in all likelihood to their teachers secretly sharing the students' fear of Brittany, Santana had never once seen them ask Brittany to contribute. She just sat at the back with her head down; for all Santana knew, she could just as easily have been working, or doodling.

"You know, Lopez," Brittany began, causing Santana to whip her head back way too quickly. "If you wanna ask me something, I won't bite."

"Oh, I wasn't…uh…" Santana mumbled, looking down for a moment, before sighing. "Actually I was just wondering how you're doing at school. With most people you can tell, but…yeah…"

"Fine, I guess," the blonde replied with another shrug. "Not worried about failing, if that's what you mean."

"Okay," Santana said with a nod. "I mean…uh…great. That's great."

"No point asking how _you're_ doing, brainbox," the taller girl continued, smiling briefly. "Highest grade average in the school, right?"

"Uhh…yeah," the brunette replied, looking away again. "Something like that."

"Is it worth it?" Brittany asked. Santana looked up, confused. "The slushies, I mean. You can't tell me you don't get some sort of kick out of knowing no matter what Fabray does to you, you're always gonna be smarter than her."

"I…" Santana considered for a moment. "I don't know." She sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment. "I know I should turn the other cheek. Listen to all that 'they're just jealous' crap, but…I don't know…"

"Hold up, Lespez," the blonde cut in, smiling again. "Did you just say 'crap'?"

Santana blinked.

"Uh…yeah?"

"That's hilarious," Brittany sniggered. "Didn't think you were capable of saying anything worse than 'damn'."

"I'm not as uptight as people think, you know," Santana said defensively. She didn't even know what she really meant by that, or why she had said it. Brittany, however, still seemed amused.

"Sooo…what, you're really a dirty girl that sneaks out at night and goes to strip clubs?" the blonde teased, instantly causing Santana's blush to return.

"What?" she gasped. "No! Why would you even…uh…"

"Christ, calm down, Specs, I'm just messing with you," Brittany said, shaking her head. "You need to lighten up."

"Sorry," Santana mumbled, hanging her head.

"Aaaaand she's apologising," the blonde said with a sigh. "Look, Lopez-" She paused, and took a moment to emphasise it. "_Santana_. You need to learn to not take everything people say seriously."

"Given that most of the time they _are_ serious, I just kinda accept it," Santana shrugged. "I figure I've only got to put up with this stuff for another year, then it's all over."

"Not with that attitude, it won't be," Brittany said flatly. "Once a pushover, always a pushover. You think people will go easy on you just because you're not at high school anymore?"

"That's easy for you to say…" the brunnete said quietly, turning away. Brittany glanced at her.

"Hm?"

"I mean it's easy for you to say that, given you don't have to put up with any crap from anyone," Santana continued, her tone becoming rather bitter. Brittany, however, was nonplussed.

"Neither do you," she said simply. Santana was about to reply, when she realised with surprise that they had stopped. She looked out the window, expecting to see the school parking lot. Instead, she was greeted by the sidewalk further along the road from McKinley.

"What…?"

"Gonna let you out here," Brittany said. "No offence, but I don't want Fabray seeing me driving you in. And you probably shouldn't tell anyone, either."

"Oh…oh, right," Santana stammered. She was surprised at just how much it hurt. Perhaps she had been deluding herself, but she thought she and the blonde had actually been getting on quite well. Apparently not. "I'll…uh…see you, then."

Brittany just gave a casual wave and waiting for Santana to step out of the car, before continuing on her way. Santana took off along the same route at a brisk pace, keen to get out of the rain before she became so wet that the ride had been a complete waist. Mind you, she was beginning to think it had been just that. Everything was just as it was before – Brittany Pierce was still a foul-mouthed enigma with more walls than Minas Tirith, and Santana was still rendered breathless simply by being in her presence.

The rest of the day progressed just like any other – Santana ended up receiving a slushy just before lunch, and was treated to Sam and Artie spending the rest of break planning horrible things they wanted to do to the Cheerios and their boyfriends. She only glimpsed Brittany once, and if the blonde had seen her, she didn't show it. But given Brittany's words before their parting, that was to be expected. Despite the blonde's instructions – and her own doubts – Santana had been tempted to tell her friends of her two rides with McKinley's most feared student, but again decided against it; it just wasn't worth it. There would be so many questions and so much disbelief, and for what? For her to tell them that Brittany had acted like Brittany and that was it?

With mounting stacks of homework, Santana was so ready to get out of there when the final bell of the day rang. Unsurprisingly, it was still raining sideways, with no sign of stopping. They had another of their clubs that evening, and while tempted to just leave straight away, Santana was persuaded to stay by Sam, who was babbling about the latest movie trailers that had been released. It was a welcome distraction from her rather confused thoughts regarding a certain girl. Sam had offered to give her a lift, but given that he always drove Artie home, Santana couldn't bring herself to have him driving off in the opposite direction just for her. With promises of chatting online later, the group of friends parted ways, and Santana found herself once again preparing to set off into the rain, wondering briefly if her mother had managed to get an umbrella for her yet.

And when she stepped out into the parking lot, Brittany was waiting for her.


	4. A Sweaty Little Unicorn

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**By my calculations, this fic has the highest review-per-chapter ratio of any fic I've ever written. Have I ever mentioned that you guys are awesome?  
**

**Lots of people wanting to know more about Brittany's background and just why she's decided to help Santana out. Not really explained in this chapter, but it's definitely something that will be addressed. One thing people familiar with my fics will know is that I like to plant the seeds of future plot points very early.  
**

**~xxx~**

By the end of the week, it was hard not to think of it as a routine. Santana told herself again and again that it was only temporary; that it had been going on for a grand total of four days, and would likely end as soon as the bad weather subsided. And yet, she couldn't help but hope the rain never stopped. Sure, their rides were mostly awkward conversation or complete silence, but the time she had spent with Brittany was something she was going to treasure for a long time to come.

Still, she was somewhat baffled by the blonde's motives; just why was she helping Santana out like this? How had she known where her house was? In all likelihood, there were probably perfectly reasonable explanations for everything. Not that that stopped Santana from fantasising that Brittany actually wanted to spend time with her. It was a curious situation, to be sure – the most respected girl in school giving secret rides to a complete nobody. But after much contemplation, Santana decided that she didn't really care – she was just grateful she had finally been given the chance to talk to her crush for such extended periods of time.

Mind you, she was pretty sure it was developing into more than a crush. If watching Brittany Pierce from afar was enough to get Santana interested, then being driven to school by her – in her own car, no less – had definitely stirred something far stronger. And if anything, it scared her. Santana hadn't even kissed another person, let alone gone further. And yet, every night since that rainy Tuesday, her mind had been filled with images of the blonde – and very few of them were what you would call innocent. It was even worse during school, having to stop herself greeting Brittany, or even simply smiling, when she saw the blonde in the corridors. Naturally, Brittany still didn't even acknowledge her, and Santana couldn't really blame her; who would want to be seen with her, after all? She knew she should be hurt, or insulted, but if anything she found it somewhat exciting – this was a secret; _their_ secret. She doubted Brittany thought of it in such a way, but having such an overactive imagination, Santana found it hard to see it any other way.

She had checked the weather forecast, and to her dismay, it was set to improve greatly over the weekend; the following week would be nothing but clear blue skies. It was amazing how much could change in a week, and Santana had been forced to feign happiness when her parents had joked about her no longer having to walk to school in the rain. Far from welcoming the impending change in weather, she felt only anxiety that it would mark the end of her brief time with Brittany.

On Friday evening, she had been hoping for some sort of comment when Brittany dropped her off; any sign that the blonde intended to continue the routine they had built over the week. But to Santana's dismay, Brittany's farewell was no different from the previous three days – a casual wave and a nod, before driving off without a word. That was probably it then, Santana mused; in years to come, she would look back on this week as a bizarre occurrence, where she had finally been able to speak to her high school crush, and had been utterly passive and made no move to form an actual friendship with the girl. Even as she shut the front door behind her, she felt nothing but regret for having remained so quiet during their rides. That said, Brittany probably would have ditched her if she had done nothing but babble; Santana was well aware that she had a tendency to ramble when she got going.

On Sunday, Sam and Artie came over. It was a welcome return to normality for Santana, and was definitely an improvement over Saturday, where she had spent most of the day pacing her room, replaying her various brief conversations with Brittany in her head. Of course, her two friends were still oblivious to Santana's time with Brittany, but it hadn't stopped them from noticing something was up. They were sat in the living room of Santana's house when Sam finally spoke up.

"You okay?" Sam had asked eventually. Santana glanced away from the game they were playing, frowning slightly.

"Yeah, why?" she asked. Internally, she was panicking that her façade of a good mood hadn't been convincing enough.

"You've been quiet all week," Artie chimed in. "We've all noticed, you know."

"It's the slushies, isn't it?" Sam continued. "They've been really going after you this week, huh?"

"Something like that," Santana shrugged, relieved that she had a valid excuse. Not that it was exactly untrue; she was sick to death of constantly wiping the freezing mess from her face.

"You should go to Principal Figgins," Sam suggested, but Artie just scoffed and shook his head.

"Like that would help," he muttered. "Remember last time we tried that? All of us went at the same time, and he just rattled off the whole 'slushies aren't recognised as weapons' crap."

"It couldn't hurt to try again," Santana said quietly, turning back to the television.

"You know who we need?" Artie said firmly. "Brittany Pierce."

Santana all but smashed the 'pause' button on her controller.

"_What?"_ she and Sam said in unison. Sam was probably just surprised, but Santana was already panicking again – did Artie know they had talked? Did he think she had some sort of connection to Brittany?

"Well come on," Artie said incredulously. "She's the only person all those dicks are afraid of, right? Maybe we could pay her off or something?"

"Pay her off for what?" Sam asked. "To be our bodyguard? Not gonna happen."

"Why would Brittany want to help us?" Santana asked, hoping the bitter note in her voice was only imagined. "She doesn't even acknowledge we exist."

"It's just an idea," Artie replied with a shrug. "Don't tell me you want to spend your entire senior year getting slushy facials every five minutes?"

"Don't be stupid," Sam sighed.

"Of course we don't, but that's just crazy," Santana said. "Besides, what makes you think Brittany would even consider it?"

"The last time I tried to talk to Brittany Pierce," Sam began, sounding rather embarrassed. "She told me to fuck off and stop 'wanking over that blue chick from Avatar.'"

Santana supressed a laugh; that was definitely the sort of thing Brittany would say. She wasn't sure what was more amusing though; that Brittany had said it, or that that Sam seemed so scandalised that Brittany didn't know Neytiri's name.

"I guess you're right," Artie said, shaking his head. "Whatever, she's still awesome."

"Now _that_, we can agree on," Sam said enthusiastically. "Now, we fight this boss or what?"

Santana nodded and unpaused the game, remaining silent. She had no doubt that Artie's 'plan' was foolish, and yet a small part of her couldn't help but picture Brittany sticking up for her. With a small smile, she returned her attention to the game. It would never happen, but it was nice to dream.

**~xxx~**

As predicted, Brittany was a no-show on Monday morning. Santana had even stood at the foot of the path leading from her door to the sidewalk for a few minutes, eagerly turning her head every time she heard a car. But no, Brittany wasn't coming. At least the weather had brightened, making her walk to school rather pleasant. There was a gentle breeze, preventing things from getting too hot. All in all, it was a beautiful day. And yet, just as it had been on Friday, Santana couldn't help but wish the rain had continued. Though she had to laugh at something her mother had said that morning – it was a miracle she had managed to survive the week without coming down with a cold - if only she knew the real reason.

The day passed as usual until lunch, following which, Santana had Biology.

With Brittany.

The brunette's heart was in her throat as she entered the room and took her seat. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Brittany entered and found her own usual spot near the back. Every table seated two students, but naturally the blonde sat alone. The class progressed as expected, but Santana found herself only half paying attention. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that Brittany was watching her, though she wasn't sure if it was simply wishful thinking. About halfway through the class, by which time they were all working on assignments, an idea occurred to her. She wasn't quite sure what possessed her to do it, but she just had to see how Brittany would react.

Getting to her feet, the brunette made her way to Brittany's table. Slowly, the taller girl looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I borrow this?" Santana asked, pointing to the eraser sat beside the blonde's arm. She could have slapped herself for such a pathetic request, but she was too busy watching those blue eyes. Without a word, Brittany flicked the object across the table, before returning to her work.

Santana mumbled thanks and returned to her seat. Brittany probably thought she was a complete freak; that she was trying to trick her into acknowledging their familiarity or something.

'_Damn, Lopez'_ that infuriating voice in her head scoffed. _'You realise she's going to think you're a total creeper now, right?'_

For the rest of the class, Santana kept her head down, asking herself again and again why she had even bothered. Was it some sad attempt at reminding Brittany she existed? Feeling utterly miserable, she packed her bag as fast as she could when the bell rang, all but running from the class.

**~xxx~**

By the end of the day, Santana was tired. Not physically, but mentally; her mind was abuzz with yet more thoughts about Brittany, and she wondered whether this was even healthy anymore. She was crushing on a girl that had as good as told her they couldn't be friends. Brittany was at the top, Santana was at the bottom; she had accepted it long ago, so why was it suddenly so hard to accept? About the only positive thing on her mind was the fact that somehow, she had escaped her usual 'start of the week slushy attack'.

Or at least, she thought she had.

Just as she was crossing the parking lot, trying her best to enjoy the warm afternoon sun, things suddenly became very cold.

"Whoops!" a familiar voice cackled. Santana stopped dead, already feeling the freezing slushie running down her neck. As she stood, Quinn Fabray entered her peripheral vision, casually walking past with an empty 'Big Quench' cup in her hand. "Sorry, Lopez. Thought you were a trashcan again."

Santana could only watch as a large car pulled into view, into which Quinn quickly disappeared. From within, the brunette could hear Quinn's friends laughing, having obviously seen everything. As the car sped off, Santana remained rooted to the spot, the all too familiar prickle of tears stinging her eyes. She couldn't go home like this. If her parents saw her in such a state, they would take it further and Quinn Fabray would never let anyone forget that Santana Lopez 'went running to her mommy and daddy.' Sighing, she looked around to see how many other people had seen. Not having any of her clubs on Mondays, she was leaving at the same time as most of her peers. There were a few onlookers, standing awkwardly as though they didn't quite know whether they should be helping or laughing.

Well, some were just laughing.

Wanting to get out of their sight as fast as possible, Santana made a beeline for the nearest entrance to the school – through the gym. Unsurprisingly, it was a place she wasn't too familiar with, though she still had a rough idea of it's layout. Not that it even mattered – all she needed to find was the toilets. The building was cool and quiet; Santana assumed there were no after school sports events today. Thankful for the peace, she quickly made her way along the corridor, trying her hardest to ignore the sound of slushie dripping onto the polished floor. She quickly found what she was looking for, and set about the familiar routine of cleaning herself up. By now, she had it down to something of an art-form, and within minutes she was as dry as she was going to be; though she would still need a shower as soon as she got home to wash the sticky substance from her hair.

Just as she was about to leave the building, a peculiar sound reached her ears – a rather angry sounding voice.

But it wasn't simply someone talking loudly, nor was it someone in pain; if anything, it was a sound of exertion. There was a brief pause, and then she heard it again, louder this time. Santana didn't entirely trust her senses, but she couldn't help but feel as though she knew who it was. Biting her lip, she turned away from the door to the parking lot, and instead headed further down the corridor. The gym was the oldest part of the school; the main building had been renovated about ten years ago, but as far as she knew, McKinley's gymnasium dated all the way back to the 1950's. As she walked, the sound grew louder still, and she became more and more certain that the voice belonged to Brittany Pierce. But what on earth was she doing?

Judging by the short, sharp sounds she was making, the blonde was definitely performing some sort of physical activity. As Santana drew even nearer, a second sound became clearer; a rather firm 'twack' after every one of Brittany's grunts. Suddenly, a rather macabre image filled Santana's mind – Brittany stood over a helpless student, laying into them with her fists and feet. But no, that wasn't Brittany – she didn't attack people at random; what had happened to Karofsky and Azimio was their own damn fault.

Finally, Santana reached the source of the sound; a pair of double doors leading off the corridor, one of them hanging open. Careful not to lean too far, she moved as close as she dared, and peered through the gap into the room beyond. It was the main hall of the gym, bathed in golden light filtering in through it's dusty windows. As with the rest of the building, it was very old-fashioned, with wood panels everywhere – even some of the equipment seemed ancient.

And there, in the center of the gym, was Brittany. The blonde was wearing a pair of baggy grey trackpants paired with a rather worn tank top. The top itself was ripped, missing it's entire lower half. This of course meant that Brittany's whole stomach was exposed; and Santana couldn't take her eyes off of it. She knew that Brittany must be well-built, but having never seen her without her usual leather jacket and the shirts she wore beneath it, it was a completely new sight.

Well-defined abdominal muscles twisted and rippled as she moved, and with the light hitting her at just the right angle, they were so defined that they cast small shadows across her stomach. Santana's eyes moved up to the blonde's arms; something else she had never seen uncovered before. The only way she could describe them was appearing akin to tree trunks; they were absolutely huge, thick with powerful biceps that swelled as she brought her fists back. Only then did Santana return her attention to what it was Brittany was even doing – or who she was doing it with. The blonde was hitting a rather battered looking punch bag, her hands thickly bandaged. Gripping the bag to prevent it from swinging too far, was Coach Sharon Bieste. While Santana had never particularly exceled at sports, and had dropped phys ed as soon as she was able, she knew Coach Bieste to be something of a gentle giant, and they often shared smiles in the corridors.

Oh, and Bieste had been the one to fish Santana out of her first dumpster visit.

But naturally, Santana's eyes quickly moved back to Brittany. She was positive she had never seen a more impressive – or arousing – sight. The blonde's face was twisted with concentration, ignoring the beads of sweat running down her brow and chest. Had Brittany been standing still, Santana was sure she would have been able to track the small droplets as they slid into her top. And the _noises_ she was making. The brunette knew it wasn't right to stand there staring, hidden from view by the door, but she couldn't help it. She was mesmerised by the girl before her; this unreal marriage of a beautiful face with such an imposing body. Brittany was nothing short of perfection in Santana's eyes – so strong and powerful, yet somehow graceful at the same time.

Though perhaps 'graceful' was the wrong word; Brittany's movements weren't exactly delicate, but there was a definite confidence and smoothness to them. This was clearly something she had been doing for a long time – not that it was any great surprise. Now, the reason behind Brittany's startling strength was clear, and Santana couldn't be any more awed by the other girl.

Well, more than she already was, anyway.

However, as much as she was enjoying the sight before her, Santana couldn't fight the growing feeling that she shouldn't be watching in secret like this. If she really respected Brittany, she shouldn't be as good as spying on her. Judging by the fact that Brittany was doing this alone, and not as part of some club or group, Santana could only assume it was meant to be private. And so, taking one last lingering look at Brittany – who was continuing to pummel the punch bag with increasing ferocity – Santana tore her eyes away, and slowly began making her way back to the parking lot. However, she only got a few paces before a different sound reached her ears: a cell phone ringing.

"He did _what?_" she heard Bieste's voice ask. "Well tell him to get his stupid butt in my office right now; I'll show him just how funny_ I_ think it is." There was a pause as the call was disconnected. "Sorry, Britt. Apparently Rick Nelson thought it'd be fun to take pot shots with a hockey puck round by the Principal's office. Figgins is still hiding under his desk."

"It's fine," Brittany replied quietly. She sounded slightly out of breath.

And breathless Brittany? Super hot.

Santana shook her head to herself and made for the door, but before she could reach it, she heard the other doors open behind her.

"Santana?" she heard Bieste ask. She turned on the spot and gave the coach a shaky smile.

"Hi, coach," Santana replied, trying her best not to sound guilty.

"What you doing in here?" Bieste asked, stepping towards her and smiling warmly. "You lost or something?"

"I…er…" Santana thought desperately for a moment, wracking her brain for any kind of excuse. "I…was looking for Brittany Pierce. I have something of hers."

"She tell you she was here?" the coach asked, sounding surprised. "Didn't think anyone knew." She shrugged, and gestured towards the doors. "Well, she's right in there. Just don't keep her too long – she gets real pissy when people interrupt her workouts."

"Okay," Santana replied with a nod. "Thanks."

"No problem," Bieste smiled, heading past her. "Now I gotta deal with the mulleted moron…"

Santana waited until the coach was out of the door, before turning back towards the gym. She could hear the now familiar sounds of Brittany striking the punch bag again, and found her throat suddenly growing very dry. Just as she had done during Biology, she had made up a reason to simply spend more time with Brittany, but with one crucial difference – this time, they were completely alone. What if the blonde took offence at being interrupted and turned her fists on Santana? Swallowing uncomfortably, the brunette steeled herself, and stepping into the gym.

For a few seconds, Brittany continued her activities, oblivious to Santana's presence. However, she was quick to spot the newcomer. The blonde stopped what she was doing, raising a hand to still the punch bag; swinging freely without Bieste to steady it. There was silence for a few moments as their eyes met. As always, Brittany's expression was unreadable. She looked Santana up and down, quirking an eyebrow just as she had done in class.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, dabbing at her sweaty brow with the back of a bandaged hand.

"Uhh…I have your eraser," Santana replied quietly, reaching into her pants pocket and retrieving the item in question. Brittany looked at her for a moment, her eyebrows slowly rising.

"Christ, Lopez," she said incredulously. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Um…" Santana didn't know what to say; she couldn't tell if Brittany was angry, amused, or both. "I'm sorry, I…"

"Keep it," Brittany shrugged, turning away and starting to unwrap her hands. "Guess that's something else you don't have, huh?"

"What…_oh_, the car thing, yeah," Santana nodded. Brittany chuckled.

"Well I ain't lending you the Chevy, if that's what you're thinking," the blonde said. She turned back to Santana, regarding her in silence for a moment. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, pulling away the stands that had become stuck to her face. "You know, you're the only person apart from Bieste that knows I come here."

"I didn't mean to, I-"

"Specs, if you apologise for something one more fucking time, I think I'm actually gonna swing for you," Brittany warned. She was still smiling, but she raised a fist half-heartedly all the same. Satisfied that Santana got the message, she turned away and finished unwrapping the bandages from her hands. Remaining silent, Santana went back to watching Brittany's movements. Even when she wasn't pummelling that bag, her muscles were still prominent enough to make the brunette's mouth water.

"Hey, pass me that bottle," Brittany said, gesturing blindly to the side. Santana looked over to a nearby table and quickly retrieved the water bottle, passing it to the blonde. Brittany took a long swig from it, before turning back to the other girl.

And she was licking her lips.

Santana knew it was just because of her drink, but she couldn't help but stare as the blonde's tongue made a brief appearance. And once again, Brittany was just staring.

"You need a lift?" she asked, screwing cap of the bottle back on.

"Uh…well…if it's no trouble," Santana began, shocked by the question, given Brittany's behaviour earlier. Then again, there was no one watching them now.

"If it was, I wouldn't be offering, genius," the blonde said, tilting her head to the side. "Just gimme a sec to clear this crap up."

And so Santana stood, her eyes yet again glued to Brittany as she unhooked the punch bag from it's chain, slinging it over her shoulder and carrying it through to what she assumed was a store room. When she re-emerged, Brittany threw her bottle into her bag, before rummaging around in it for something else. Santana cocked her head slightly, subconsciously trying to get a look at what the taller girl was searching for. Eventually, she pulled something out, but it was so small that her hand completely hid it from view. Brittany looked back at the other girl, giving her a searching look.

"Do you think you could…uh…" She trailed of, chewing the inside of her mouth for a moment. Then she seemed to change her mind. "Fuck it, whatever."

Santana then watched with surprise as the blonde looked down, and finally she saw what was in her hand – a navel piercing.

Brittany rather quickly put it back in, making sure it was sat properly before straightening up and pulling her jacket from the nearby table, slinging it over her shoulder along with her bag. She nodded towards the door, and Santana quickly followed, marvelling at what she had just seen. They stepped out into the sun together, crossing the now deserted parking lot towards Brittany's car. The blonde tossed her bag onto the back seat, before holding her hands out for Santana. The brunette blinked, confused for a moment, before catching on. She shrugged her rucksack off, passing it to the other girl who – far more gently – placed it alongside her own. They climbed into their respective seats, and without a word, Brittany brought the car roaring to life, and turned onto the road.

The ride home was – unsurprisingly – another silent one. Santana had often wondered why Brittany was so quiet during their journeys, given that she was as far from shy as a person could be. But this time, she had a pretty good idea why the blonde was keeping quiet.

Because now Santana Lopez knew she had a navel piercing with a unicorn hanging from it.


	5. Shoot to Thrill

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

******IMPORTANT: If you ever want to bug me for updates, ask any questions regarding this or my other fics, or just generally see what I'm up to, there's a link to my Tumblr account in my profile. It's right at the bottom of it.**

**~xxx~**

It went on for another whole week. Brittany arrived in the mornings to pick Santana up, before dropping her off a short distance from school - the only difference now was that they actually talked. It was hardly enthusiastic conversation, but now Santana felt slightly more comfortable in the blonde's presence, she was surprised to find that Brittany was more than willing to respond when prompted. Their topics were far from exciting – mainly school related – but Santana was still thrilled to even be talking to Brittany Pierce at all. She wanted to find out more about Brittany's 'secret' time in the gym, or even more about her past; but something told her those topics were strictly off the table - at least for now.

The first morning after Santana's 'discovery' of Brittany's private work-outs, the blonde had stopped her just as she was getting out of the car. The taller girl considered for a moment, before finally speaking.

"You want a ride home after school too?" she asked, to which Santana nervously nodded. "Same place as before, then."

And with that, she let go of Santana's arm and drove off, leaving a very confused brunette behind her. Had Brittany Pierce just invited her to watch her train? Almost like they were…hanging out? Santana had spent much of the day in a daze, constantly glancing at the time. It was unusual for her to wish the school day away, but given the circumstances, she hardly felt guilty – almost every other student would kill to be in her position right now.

**~xxx~**

At the end of her final class, Santana was one of the first to leave the room, earning a few raised eyebrows. They probably assumed she was making some attempt at avoiding being slushied, but no one bothered to ask. As it was Tuesday, she would normally be heading in the other direction – but today, Comic Club was the last thing on her mind. It had taken more than an hour for her to even realise Brittany's invitation clashed with her usual routine, but of course when forced to decide, she would favour Brittany.

Who wouldn't?

She even passed Sam on her way to the front of the school. He smiled warmly at her as she approached.

"Hey," he greeted, slowing down and pulling his bag further up his shoulder. "Are you-"

"Not today, Sam," she almost snapped in response, not even stopping as she passed. Instantly she scolded herself for being so rude; she didn't dare turn her head to see her friend's reaction. She hadn't meant to be so blunt, but the last thing she wanted right now was to be forced into explaining where she was going. Making a mental note to apologise with some excuse later on, Santana continued on her way.

She headed straight for the gym, this time actually passing other students on her way. Several members of the football team gave her looks of confusion as she passed, looking suspiciously like lumbering trolls as they went. They looked far too confused to make even the simplest of snide comments, though that 'duty' usually fell to Quinn Fabray anyway. Without their bitchy cheerleader girlfriends, they actually looked decidedly less threatening – though perhaps that was simply because Santana was well aware of who she was meeting there. Though as she continued on her way the gym, a thought struck her – just what would Brittany do if she saw Santana being hassled at school? The Latina's own friends had often witnessed it, or - more often than not - been fellow victims; though they could hardly be blamed, given their own lack of physical ability. But Brittany, on the other hand, was an entirely different ballgame. One look from the blonde would be enough to send most people on their way, and those that were stupid enough to remain would end up like Karofsky.

But of course, that was unlikely to happen. Santana was pretty sure that even if Brittany was nearby when she was slushied, or pushed into lockers, or tripped up, or having her books dumped in the trash, or just about any of the other horrible things she was subjected to, that the blonde girl would just watch. Santana knew that it should make her angry; Brittany's insistence that no one know they were acquainted, but she found herself entirely unable to, try as she might. Santana pictured herself as a popular student – perhaps in Quinn Fabray's place as captain of the Cheerios. In the shoes of someone at the top of the social ladder, would she willingly be seen with someone at the bottom of it?

Her internal question went unanswered, as she had finally reached her destination. This time, she didn't hesitate, and slowly pushed the door to the gymnasium open. As she breathed in the musty smell of the old building once more, Santana realised she was entirely alone. It was almost eerily quiet, save for the very distant rumble of chatter from the school's main building. Much like large superstores or city centers, school was one of those places that had a strangely spooky quality when it was deserted. Santana almost felt as though she wasn't meant to be there, and stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the gym for a few minutes, simply casting her eyes around the old room. Near the wall furthest from the door was an ancient-looking boxing ring; probably just as old as the building that contained it. She wondered whether Brittany actually had any interest in the sport itself, or simply worked out to keep in shape. She couldn't really picture Brittany competing in any sort of organised sport, though perhaps that was simply her own perception of the blonde girl.

As if on cue, the doors swung open, and Brittany strode into the room. She was slurping on a slushie, and upon seeing Santana, she actually smiled. Supressing the butterflies that had suddenly decided to occupy her stomach, the Latina returned it, briefly noting that she had never actually seen someone _drinking_ one of the icy drinks. Somehow Brittany seemed to have caught the direction of her eyes, and just smiled even wider.

"Don't worry, only place this is going is in my mouth," she said with a chuckle. "Dunno why everyone wastes them – these things are fucking expensive."

"I've never actually had one," Santana replied, stepping a little closer. She was well aware that her own smile had become someone stuck, but with the way the light was playing across the blonde's face and highlighting her eyes, she couldn't help it if she wanted to.

"Shit, really?" Brittany asked, eyebrows raised. She took one final slurp through the straw, before smacking her lips and holding the cup out for Santana. "Knock yourself out."

Santana took it with an embarrassingly shaky hand. "Thanks," she murmured, before finally tasting the drink. After a few slurps, she was definitely in agreement with Brittany – why would anyone waste these? The blonde herself was now busying herself setting up; she had dropped her bag to the floor and was already making her way towards the store room. Santana watched as she produced a key from her jacket pocket, unlocking the door and disappearing from view. Only then did Santana realise what was missing – Coach Bieste was nowhere to be seen. Did she only help Brittany on certain days?

She had little time to ponder this, however, as Brittany sauntered back into view, carrying a punching bag over her shoulder as though it weighed nothing at all. She passed Santana, who was fighting as hard as she could not to stare too much.

Naturally, she was failing.

As Brittany fixed the bag's chain to a low-hanging frame, Santana took a final look around the room, before finally asking the question that had been nagging her.

"So is it just us?" she question, hoping she didn't sound too hopeful.

"Hm?" Brittany's voice was muffled by her arm, still raised above her as she secured the bag. "Oh, yeah. Why?"

"Just wondering," Santana replied, going back to her drink.

"You trying to get me alone, Lespez?" the blonde chuckled, stepping away from the bag and giving it a gentle push to make sure it was hanging properly.

Santana almost choked on her slushie.

"What?" she spluttered, eyes wide. "No! No, nothing like that."

"Relax, Specs," the blonde replied, waving her hand dismissively. "Jesus, I thought you'd be used to a little teasing."

"Sorry," Santana replied, scratching the back of her neck nervously, but Brittany just shook her head. The taller girl stepped closer, narrowing her eyes at the Latina.

"Stop." She prodded the brunette's chest. "Fucking." And again. "Apologising." One more time.

Satisfied, Brittany moved away again and shrugged off her jacket, tossing it onto the floor beside her bag. Santana's eyes instantly shot to Brittany's arms, once again admiring the blonde's muscular build. Suddenly she wished she hadn't finished the slushy so quickly; her mouth seemed to have changed it's mind about not being dry as a desert.

"No wonder everyone walks all over you," the blonde said, not batting an eyelid as she pulled her tank top over her head, clearly intending to replace it with the ripped one Santana had previously seen her work out in. "You need to start sticking up for yourself more."

"That's easy for you to say," the Latina replied. "You're the most popular girl in school."

"And why do you think that is?"

'_Don't say because she's the hottest girl on the planet_,' Santana mentally scolded herself. It was a very difficult point to make, given that Brittany was standing there with only a bra covering her chest. Desperate to keep her composure, Santana glanced to the side.

"It's because I know who I am," Brittany continued, pulling on the ripped top. "It's because I don't give a fuck what people think about me, and I don't take shit from anyone either."

"It's still not the same," Santana said, a little more harshly than she had intended. The last thing she wanted to do was start an argument with Brittany Pierce of all people, but she wasn't going to let someone else tell her who she was. "You could beat the crap out of pretty much anyone that comes your way – people are _scared_ of you."

"Honey, I could just as easily get what I want if I didn't have these," the blonde replied, holding her arms out to her sides. After a few moments, she let them drop. "I'm not saying you need to start terrorising freshman or shit like that, but you could still use a confidence boost."

"And you're going to help me do that, are you"? Santana almost scoffed, but Brittany remained nonplussed.

"Maybe," she said with a shrug.

And then without warning, she dropped her pants.

Santana caught a glimpse of long toned legs before her moral compass kicked in and she averted her eyes. She couldn't believe that Brittany Pierce was just getting changed in front of her like this; the entire male population of the school would kill to see what she had seen, and yet she couldn't help but feel guilty just standing there and watching. Sure, girls changing in front of each other was no big deal – but this was _Brittany Pierce_. And she was fully aware that the girl she was changing in front of was one-hundred percent gay. And as if that wasn't bad enough, adding to her predicament was the way Brittany continued to talk as though nothing was amiss.

"I mean, you can't tell me you wanna spend your whole senior year getting slushied by Fabray and whichever guy she's fucking that week, right?" she went on. "Hell, while we're on the subject – why the hell have I never seen you with a girl? How do you know you're even a lesbian?"

"Trust me, I know," Santana replied, before clapping a hand to her mouth and wishing she'd just kept quiet. Brittany turned to her, baggy sweatpants halfway up her legs and a huge grin on her face.

"Well well well…" she said, eyes twinkling. "Don't tell me Lopez has a sex drive after all?" She finished pulling her pants up, before kicking her jeans over to her bag and jacket. "You got your eye on anyone? Or are we just talking video game characters here?"

"That's not…I…uh…" the Latina stammered, directing her gaze towards her feet. Brittany just laughed.

"Christ, you ever actually going to look at me?" the blonde asked with a chuckle. "Seriously, it's kinda depressing when McKinley's resident lesbo thinks I'm too hideous to even look at." Slowly, Santana looked back up towards her. "Now then, I'll take that as a yes on the being sweet on someone thing."

"I didn't say that!" Santana protested, but the other girl just smirked.

"Didn't deny it either," she said, turning away and heading over to her bag. "Anyway, if you wanna get comfortable or something…"

And for a whole hour, Santana watched from a nearby bench as Brittany pummelled the bag as hard as she could. Without Bieste to steady it, the stronger hits sent it swinging away from her. Santana was almost dreading Brittany asking her to hold the bag still for her, but thankfully she was saved from that potential embarrassment. In fact, Brittany remained silent throughout.

Well, sort of.

She let out plenty of shouts and grunts, but the two girls didn't share a single word until the blonde was finished. Santana wondered why Brittany was allowing her to see this; she clearly considered her time in the gym to be somewhat personal, and yet not only did she allow Santana to watch, but she had invited her there in the first place. And it was far from an unpleasant experience – watching the sweat run down the blonde's face, which itself was tensed in concentration, was enough to make Santana's brow – and other places, for that matter – somewhat moist.

It was all over too soon for Santana's liking, and before she knew it, they were crossing the parking lot towards Brittany's car. The ride to her house that evening was the best they had ever had – they hadn't just talked, they actually chatted. The whole way back they had carried on an animated discussion regarding Brittany's 'instructions' on how Santana could 'fight back' against all those that picked on her.

In other words, the entire student body.

The blonde seemed adamant that Santana should try to work on her confidence, but as Santana pointed out – it was difficult to be confident when you're expecting a slushie to the face every five minutes. Still, she couldn't believe that Brittany was – more or less – trying to help her, and couldn't ignore the warm feeling spreading throughout her as they continued to talk. Despite everything she thought she knew about the blonde, and everything other people would say if they could see them right now, Santana couldn't help but feel more attached to Brittany than ever. She reminded herself that apart from her scary reputation, she really knew nothing about the other girl; Brittany was foul-mouthed, had something of an ego, was rumoured to have a very rich family, and that was about it.

And yet despite it all, Santana had fallen hard and fast for McKinley's resident badass. But that once again brought her back to uncomfortable truth – Brittany Pierce would never be hers. Even if she eventually acknowledged Santana as a friend in public, Santana was still certain Brittany was straight. She might be tougher than any of the guys at McKinley, but she had never shown any inclination towards girls. Santana had only rarely seen Brittany interacting with her own friends, but again – not even a blip on her gaydar.

She wondered whether getting closer to Brittany was such a good idea after all – her feelings for her were only growing deeper, and it was going to become harder and harder to be near her. And to top it off – it was all still completely secret from everyone, including the Latina's closest friends. She worried about what they would say when they found out; even if they were okay with it – doubtful – they would be hurt that she hadn't told them straight away. But what could she say? Just how are you supposed to break the news to your circle of nerdy friends that you're secretly sort-of-friends with the most popular girl in school?

The answer? You don't.

**~xxx~**

It was on Thursday that something shocked Santana so much, she almost walked straight into her own locker. The brunette had been heading to lunch, readying herself to dodge more questions about why she had missed Comic Club on Tuesday, when she had seen a very familiar blonde heading her way. She prepared to turn away – the customary response expected from someone as lowly as her when Brittany Pierce drew near. But just as she was about to, Brittany shot her a lopsided grin.

And winked.

Santana walked to lunch in something of a daze, clutching her books so tightly to her chest that she was in danger of leaving marks in her skin. Her friends regarded her with confusion as she sat down, her eyes somewhat unfocussed behind her glasses. Artie looked up from his phone, frowning at her as he put it away.

"What's up with you?" he asked. Santana blinked a few times, before finally focussing on her friends.

"Hm? Oh, nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head. "Just a bit tired."

"You gonna tell us what's been going on with you lately?" Artie continued, returning to his lunch. "You're still acting weird."

"No I'm not," the Latina replied, starting on her own food.

"Er…yeah you are?" Sam cut in. He was sat beside Santana, while Artie and Nicole were opposite them. "At the weekend you said it was because of the slushies, right?"

"I guess," Santana replied with a shrug. "Honestly, I'm fine."

"Come on, San," Nicole joined in. "If you can't tell us, who can you tell? We all get crap from people – we're not going to judge you."

"Guys, just drop it," the brunette protested. "Please."

"So why weren't you at Comic Club on Tuesday?" Sam asked, shaking his head. "You shot off like a rocket and then yesterday when I asked why, you just changed the subject."

"I was at the dentist," Santana replied quickly. "Look, I'm absolutely fine. Just had a lot of stuff on lately. You know that Rachel Berry keeps bugging me about designing stuff for the Glee Club."

"She's got a point," Artie said. "That girl is _crazy_."

"Well why didn't you just say so?" Sam asked with a frown. "We could have helped."

"Sam, you can barely draw a stick-man in Photoshop," Nicole scoffed. "Santana's the art whiz."

Artie looked as though he was about to add something, when his voice died in his throat. His eyes were fixed on a point somewhere behind Santana, filled with a mix of surprise and fear – it didn't take someone of Santana's intelligence to know who was standing behind her.

"What kind of convention are we having today, nerds? I smell grease and cheese puffs."

"Uhh…hi, Brittany…um…" Artie stammered. Santana was frozen in her seat; she didn't dare turn around. What on Earth was Brittany doing at their table?

"Not here for you, Wheels," Brittany replied, sounding almost bored. And then, with a loud thump, a biology textbook landed beside Santana's lunch. "Next time, take your shit with you, Lopez."

And with that, she was gone. The others looked at Santana in shock.

"Are you okay?" Nicole asked, leaning forward over her own food. Santana slowly turned to her and managed a nod.

They ate the rest of their lunch in silence, none daring to speak about what had happened. They were all aware of people from other tables staring at them, probably wondering what they had done to anger Brittany, but only three of them were genuinely frightened; Santana was just curious. Her own biology text book was safely in her bag, so just where had this one come from? Making a mental note to examine it as soon as she was alone, she got to her feet along with her friends, and was just about to leave when something occurred to her.

"Oh, we still on for the movie tonight?" she asked. The other three looked at her in silence; had Brittany really scared them that much? "…what?"

"I…ah…my folks said I couldn't go," Sam answered, looking rather embarrassed.

"And you know I'm not interested," Nicole added.

"And these two are the only ones with cars, so…" Artie trailed off.

"…oh."

Santana felt as though a weight had been dropped into her stomach. While her time with Brittany had been a distraction, she had still been incredibly excited about the midnight screening she had planned to attend with her friends. They had discussed it months ago, and it had just been an unspoken agreement that it was happening. She supposed it was her own fault: had her mind been on them - and not on a certain blonde – she imagined she would have remembered to check with them sooner.

Rather put-out by the movie fiasco, it wasn't until halfway through her next class that Santana remembered the textbook Brittany had 'delivered' during lunch. She pulled it out and gave it a good look over – nothing out of the ordinary. Only when she opened it to the first page did she realise Brittany's intention – there was a note folded inside it.

'_Don't worry about Fabray until next week. You'd be amazed how easy it is to get blue hair dye into the cheerleader's shower system._

_-Britt'_

Santana spent the rest of the day trying and failing to supress her laughter at the mental images.

**~xxx~**

As she had done all week, Santana sat watching Brittany working out. Casting her eyes over the blonde's awe-inspiring body was a welcome distraction from the disappointment she was still feeling from her friends' group cancelation, at least. But as they headed off to Brittany's car, an idea occurred to Santana. It was a crazy idea – but try as she might, she couldn't get rid of it. She watched the blonde for a while, wondering exactly how she would react. When she finally spoke, they had been sat in silence for ten minutes. Despite their more talkative journeys over the past week, the blonde always waited for the other girl to start the conversations; if Santana didn't speak first, Brittany wouldn't speak at all.

"Hey, Brittany?" she asked quietly.

"Mm?" She didn't seem that bothered, and instantly Santana wished she had remained quiet. By now she was used to the other girl's aloof nature; hell, as much as it pained her to admit it - she was attracted to it. And yet it still somehow managed to fill her with dread that the taller girl was angry at her over something.

It wasn't until Brittany took her eyes off the road to give her a curious look that Santana realised she had completely drifted off.

"Oh…er…I was wondering if…" she trailed off, pausing briefly and biting her lip. This had gone a lot better in her head. "Well, I know we've only really been…uh…interacting…for a couple of weeks, but… we are friends, right?"

Brittany didn't react. Santana's eyes darted over her, searching for any sign of acknowledgement, good or bad. But her hands remained loosely gripped around the wheel; her eyes were still fixed ahead; her mouth hadn't moved in any way. It was as though she had been frozen – save for the fact she was still driving a car.

"Sorry," Santana mumbled, eyes downcast. "I didn't-"

"Guess we are," Brittany said casually, not even batting an eyelid.

"Oh." Santana tried her hardest to not sound too excited. "Okay, good."

"Any reason you're asking?"

"Well, tonight, uh…" She took a deep breath, and finally looked back at Brittany properly. "There's a midnight screening of The Avengers. Because it comes out tomorrow, but at midnight it's technically tomorrow, so they can start showing it right then, and it's always a special kinda thing, so…"

She trailed off again, once more watching the blonde's reaction. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"What about your nerd squad?" she asked. "Thought you'd be going with them."

"Oh, well they're all busy actually," Santana replied quickly. "Sam's parents won't let him out on a school night, Nicole's not interested in superhero movies – neither of them coming means Artie can't get there easily either, so…"

"So….what?" Brittany asked. "I'm your last choice?"

"No!" Santana blurted out, shaking her head vigorously. "No, nothing like that. Honestly, I…I wanted to invite you anyway, but they others…uh…"

"Don't know we're…friends, yeah," the blonde finished with a nod. She tapped her fingers against the wheel for a moment. "Can't you just see it with them at the weekend or something?"

"I could, but…" Santana bit her lip again. "Honestly I kinda really want to see the first showing." Brittany raised an eyebrow. "It's a bit of a tradition. We always see these movies at the midnight screenings. It's just this is the first time none of them have been able to make it."

"And just when have I shown even the slightest interest in your sorta movies?" Brittany asked, quirking that eyebrow again.

"I…" Santana began, but quickly sighed in defeat. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked away. She knew it had been a long shot, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed. "You know what, forget it. It was a stupid idea. I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even-"

"I'll pick you up at eleven-thirty."

**~xxx~**

To say Santana was excited would be the understatement of the century.

She paced her room for at least an hour, unable to believe this was really happening. She was going to the movies with Brittany Pierce. Just the two of them. To see Santana's most anticipated film of the year. Could today really get any more perfect?

A great deal of her time was spent agonising over exactly what to wear. Originally, she had simply planned on wearing her Black Widow shirt and a pair of jeans – but now, everything was different. She had to keep telling herself it wasn't a date, and yet despite that, she couldn't help but want to make a good impression. She imagined Brittany would wear her usual attire, but she still wanted to look nice for her.

She had debated telling her parents about the others not being able to take her, but changed her mind during dinner – they didn't know she knew Brittany, but she was pretty sure they – or at least her mother – had heard of the blonde; even among parents, Brittany Pierce had a reputation. Some were impressed that she was able to defend herself, others were appalled that she hadn't been expelled for her actions. Santana had been pondering a way to bring Brittany up in conversation, if only to find out which side of the argument her parents took, but had yet to find a way to do so without sounding suspicious.

Thankfully, her parents were asleep by the time Santana heard a familiar engine rumbling outside the house. She gave herself one final look in the mirror – a beige turtleneck paired with neat black pants. It was hardly exciting, it was the best she could do with her limited wardrobe. In her own eyes at least, she looked rather smart. Satisfied, she headed downstairs – careful to not make too much noise on the stairs – and headed to the front door. She wondered briefly why Brittany didn't ring the doorbell, but realised the very fact she knew Brittany was there answered her question – the rather unique sound of her car was enough.

Double checking she had locked the door behind her, Santana headed down the path and let herself into the blonde's car. Sure enough, Brittany was wearing her usual outfit – jeans, tank top, leather jacket. She flashed Santana a brief smile, taking in the brunette's outfit.

"What's with the turtleneck, Specs?" she asked with a chuckle. "Did one of the grease faces finally get to first base with you?"

"…I…what?" Santana asked, completely confused. Brittany just laughed.

"You realise most people wear those to hide hickeys, right?" the blonde asked, still sniggering.

Suddenly, Santana wished she had gone with the Black Widow shirt.

"Nah, I'm just messing," Brittany continued, shaking her head and pulling the car away from Santana's house. "You look cute."

"Thanks," the Latina replied, instantly perking up.

"You want some music?" Brittany asked, nodding at the stereo. During their rides to and from school, Santana had never once witnessed it in use – she had even wondered whether it was broken. But upon closer inspection, she noticed that not only was it working – but Brittany had clearly swapped the original radio out for a modern CD player.

"Uh, sure," she replied with a nod. Brittany simply reached over and pressed play, and seconds later a rather familiar guitar intro filled the car.

"…is that…AC/DC?" Santana asked. Brittany shot her an incredibly wide grin.

"I thought it'd be appropriate," she said casually. Santana was instantly impressed. She wanted to ask just how Brittany knew about the Iron Man connection, but decided against it – once she started, she probably wouldn't be able to stop. "That okay for you?"

"It's perfect."

There was silence for a few minutes, before Brittany spoke.

"So, is this thing gonna be full of nerds?" she asked, glancing over to Santana.

"Probably," the Latina replied. She didn't want Brittany to feel uncomfortable, but there was no denying it.

"Awesome."

Well that was unexpected.

"Excuse me?" Santana asked, frowning at the other girl. Brittany just chuckled again.

"Well, what do you think they're all gonna say when they see us there?" she asked, as if the answer was obvious.

"I dunno…'how much did they pay that hot girl to come?'" the Latina suggested. She instantly scolded herself for her choice of words, but Brittany didn't seem to notice or care.

"No. They're all gonna say 'wow, look how awesome Santana Lopez is, she's friends with that hot piece of ass,'" Brittany said, shooting her another grin.

"So this is all part of your plan to 'boost my confidence'?" Santana asked, biting her lip to prevent her own smile from growing too much. Was Brittany serious?

"There is no plan," the taller girl said simply. "But there isn't gonna be anyone we know there, right?"

"There might few a few guys from school, but no one I know," Santana replied.

"Right, so even if there are, they'll be too scared to tell anyone," Brittany said with a nod. "Meaning you and I are gonna own that place."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh come on, Specs," the blonde said incredulously. "Two hot girls seeing the first showing of that movie? One of them's so smart she probably already knows everything about it? Those spotty fuckers probably don't even know what a real girl looks like."

"I..." Santana wanted to argue, but after a moment, nodded. "…you're not wrong."

"Trust me," Brittany said, her smile becoming somewhat more genuine. "Tonight's gonna be awesome."

**~xxx~**

After they had their tickets, the two girls still had about fifteen minutes to kill before they were allowed in. Rather than hang around in the crowded lobby, which – as Brittany rather bluntly pointed out – was filled with a large number of unsavoury smelling men, they headed back out into the parking lot for some fresh air. Santana watched with a small smile as Brittany took a deep breath, swinging her arms back and forth as she craned her neck upwards.

"Stargazing?" the Latina asked, following the other girl. Brittany looked down and chuckled.

"Something like that," she replied, tilting her head back again. "Always used to when I was younger…" She sighed. "…back when things were different…"

"Different?" Santana didn't want to ask to many questions, but her curiosity was piqued just too much now.

"Yeah…" Brittany looked down again, and looked at the other girl. The expression upon her face was unlike any Santana had previously seen her wear – she looked almost remorseful. Her bright blue eyes seemed almost grey, and Santana was pretty sure it wasn't just because of the dim light. "Look, Spe- …Santana. I…I wasn't always like this, you know. Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

"Do you want to talk about it?" the brunette offered, but Brittany just slowly shook her head.

"Another time, maybe," she said. She quickly forced a smile. "Come on, let's head back."

Once they were seated, Brittany seemed a lot more cheerful. She couldn't stop pointing out members of the audience, often making less than charitable comments regarding their appearance – and likelihood of living in their parents basements. Part of Santana hated herself for it, but she couldn't help but laugh. As Brittany had predicted, they were getting a lot of stares. Some of them seemed impressed, while others seemed to think they shouldn't even be there. One particularly obnoxious man – or boy, given his attitude, Santana thought – even had the guts to ask if they even knew what the movie was about. Brittany looked ready to kick off, but before she could react, a woman appeared next to the guy who was bothering them.

His mother.

Santana was pretty sure Brittany would be imitating the woman's cries of _'Nate, what did I tell you about picking on pretty girls?'_ for a long time to come.

As the lights dimmed after the last of the trailers, Santana leant over to whisper in Brittany's ear. She didn't mean to get so close, but she didn't want to forget to say this.

"Thank you," she said. "This really means a lot to me."

"_The Tesseract has awakened…"_

"Don't mention it," Brittany replied, her eyes doing that damn twinkling thing again. "Thank you for inviting me."

"_It is on a little world… A human world…"_

"Honestly, I never thought I'd be doing this with you," Santana admitted, glad the darkness was hiding her reddening cheeks.

"_They would wield its power…"_

"No regrets?"

"_But our ally knows its workings as they never will…"_

"No regrets."

**~xxx~**

The drive back to Santana's was silent. But this time, it was comfortable. Santana felt no need to say anything, and the casual smile playing at Brittany's lips told her the blonde was feeling the same. Tonight had left no doubt in her mind – Brittany Pierce was her friend. Somehow, maybe thanks to the bad weather, fate, or pure blind luck, she had crossed paths with the most amazing girl she had ever met. Sure, she had only spoken to her for the first time two weeks ago, and perhaps her other feelings were clouding her judgement, but for now at least, Santana was happy.

When they arrived at the house, Brittany actually got out of the car with her, walking alongside her to the door.

"Thanks again," Brittany said. "You know, for inviting me. It was pretty good."

"Yeah, it was…" Santana replied, smiling fondly at the other girl. There was a slight chill in the air, and yet she felt nothing but warmth. "Thanks again for actually coming with me."

Brittany just shrugged. "You're cool, Specs," she said. "Besides, I'd hate to think of you alone in there with all those overgrown children."

"Yeah…" the Latina trailed off. "Well, I…uh…" She glanced at her front door. Brittany nodded.

"See ya," she said, turning away from the house.

"Brittany, wait," the shorter girl hissed, lurching forward and grabbing the blonde's arm.

"What-"

Santana wasn't entirely sure what had made her kiss Brittany. Perhaps it had been inevitable, given how much time they had been spending together. Maybe it was down to her reading too much into the taller girl's protective words. Or maybe she was simply being a hormonal teenager who was alone with an attractive girl, upon whom she had a crush.

It only lasted a few seconds, and when Santana rocked back onto her feet, she instantly took a step back.

Brittany was staring daggers at her, her face contorted with what Santana knew could only be anger. Maybe even disgust.

"…oh my god…Brittany…I…I didn't…"

The blonde took a step towards her, her hands balled into tight fists. This was it, Santana thought – Brittany was going to kill her. The blonde had been nothing but kind; something no one else had ever seen from her, and now the Latina was going to become a human-sized smear on her parents' front door. The taller girl took another step, and Santana braced herself for the inevitable.

"Well," Brittany said, her lips curling into a smile. "It's about fucking time."

This time, there was tongue.


	6. Ask Out, Pass Out

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

******Well, that last chapter went down rather well to say the least. Got about 80 comments for that one chapter alone - that's just completely unprecedented, and massively humbling. Hope this one doesn't disappoint.  
**

**~xxx~**

"It's about fucking time."

And with that, Brittany's lips were on hers. Had her brain not been on the verge of combusting, Santana probably would have noticed the strong arms locked firmly around her waist, or the fact that she was now pressed up against the door, or maybe even the way Brittany had stopped her from falling when she had pushed her back.

As if those details were important.

Brittany Pierce was _kissing her_. Like, really really kissing her. The blonde's lips were surprisingly soft – not that Santana had any real point of reference – though that could hardly be said for the force behind them. The pressure Brittany applied was dizzying, and the brunette was immediately thankful for the arms steadying her. And then, just when she was becoming quite certain that Brittany must have actually hit her and this was some sort of hallucination, she felt something wet and warm run along her lips. She would have gasped if it wasn't for the way Brittany's tongue instantly darted out as her lips parted, seeking out her own.

At the contact, someone let out a moan – though Santana couldn't be sure which one of them it had come from. Brittany's eyes were already closed, and as instinct took over and she began to tentatively reciprocate, the Latina felt her own eyelids fluttering shut. At the first sign of movement from the brunette, Brittany smiled into the kiss and tightened her hold around the other girl's waist. Though despite the blonde's strength, Santana was only vaguely aware of her touch; she was in a complete state of shock, almost certain she was seeing stars. The feeling was completely alien to Santana; she had never shared so much as a peck on the cheek with anyone other than family, and now her tongue was finding a steady rhythm alongside Brittany's.

Brittany.

The girl who was kissing her. The girl she had longed for all this time. The girl who seemed to have sensed her slight distraction, and slowly pulled away. Almost timidly, Santana opened her eyes, already nervous of what she would find waiting for her. But as it transpired, Brittany was smiling. Her bright eyes seemed to be shining even more than usual, but it really was her smile that drew Santana's attention the most – gone was the familiar cocky smirk, and instead it couldn't be described as anything other than warm.

After a moment of silence, punctuated only by Santana's shaky breathing, Brittany withdrew her arms from the shorter girl's waist. The brunette instantly missed the contact, but was still far too shocked to really focus on it. Brittany took a couple of steps back, moving from the porch to the path. She just continued to smile wordlessly, watching with a surprisingly soft expression as the other girl slowly regained her senses. Brittany bit her bottom lip for a moment, her smile only widening.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

And that was it. Without another word, she got back into her car – pausing only to wink at Santana through the window – and brought it roaring into life. As Santana watched the taillights disappearing from view, she finally seemed to fully regain her faculties, and let out an incredibly deep breath. She reached behind her to steady herself against the door. She could feel her heart beating a mile a minute, not just in her chest, but all through her body; it was like her veins were on fire.

Just what on earth had just happened? Kissing Brittany out of the blue was just the kind of crazy stupid thing she would do – that part, she could believe. But Brittany had kissed _her?_ Brittany S Pierce, the most respected and feared student in the entire school, had _intentionally_ _kissed her_. After spending so long positive that she would be alone for many years to come, she had received her very first kiss from none other than the girl she had desired since first laying eyes on her.

Mind racing, Santana finally unlocked the door and made her way into the dark house. Despite the key still being in her hand, she was almost halfway up the stairs before she realised she hadn't even locked the door behind her.

Or taken her shoes of.

By the time she made it upstairs, Santana was afraid she was going to end up breaking something. And yet somehow, she made it to the sanctuary of her bedroom, letting out another deep breath as the door closed behind her. The light from her laptop's screen was the only source of light, illuminating the path to her bed. Without another thought, she allowed herself to flop backwards onto it. Sleep was out of the question, she knew that much – how was she meant to relax when it felt as though her brain might overload at any moment?

And yet somehow, even as she contemplated getting up and spending some time on her computer, she found her eyes growing heavy, and it wasn't long before she was drifting off, her mind entirely occupied by a single thought.

Kissing Brittany Pierce was just about the most amazing experience of her life.

**~xxx~**

When Santana woke up on Friday morning, it was to the sound of her mother knocking on her bedroom door. It took less than a second for every single little detail of the previous night to come rushing back, and already the brunette's heart began racing. If her mother came in and saw that she hadn't even got changed, there would be awkward questions. Not that it was especially suspicious, but Maribel knew her daughter too well – it would have to be something pretty serious for her to fall asleep without changing for bed, given her usual strictness when it came to little things like that.

Cringing as she realised how stiff her joints were, Santana pushed herself into a sitting position, just in time to hear her mother's voice through the door.

"Santana?" she called. "Are you awake? I didn't hear your alarm go off."

'_Too busy thinking about making out with Brittany to remember to set it, huh?'_ that irritating voice in her head mocked, but Santana just ignored it and got to her feet.

"Yeah, I'm up," she replied through the door. "Just getting dressed."

"What time did you get back last night?" Maribel asked. Santana was surprised she hadn't been louder when she had got back, given the daze she had been in.

"Uhh…" she trailed off; having been so focussed on Brittany, she hadn't even checked the time after they had left the theatre. "A little before three, I guess."

"Well just make sure you don't fall asleep in class," her mother said sternly. "Who else went in the end?"

"Oh, um…the usual people," Santana lied, already dreading her parents talking to Artie, Sam, or Nicole's and finding her out.

"Well you'll have to tell me all about it tonight," Maribel said, and her daughter couldn't help but smile; her parents didn't exactly understand everything she talked to them about, but they always showed an interest. Whether they were just humouring her or not, Santana appreciated it.

"Okay," she replied, turning away from the door and half-heartedly trying to work out where she had left her school bag.

"See you later, then!" her mother called. Santana listened as her mother headed down the stairs, before breathing a sigh of relief and stepping towards her wardrobe.

She quickly set about changing her clothes, swapping them for a rather worn hoodie – with bat symbol – and a pair of jeans. By the time she headed downstairs, her mother had left, leaving Santana alone in the house. With no one else to distract her, the Latina's thoughts returned to the previous night's events; just the mere thought of Brittany's lips against her own was enough to make the brunette shudder, even as she was buttering her toast.

She was halfway through it, and just starting to calm down, when the doorbell rang. She dropped the food to her plate and got up, assuming the mailman was delivering another random parcel her mother had ordered online. But before she had even left the kitchen, she glanced through the window and saw it.

Brittany's car.

But it wasn't in it's usual spot. Rather than simply sat on the road in front of the house, it was in the driveway only recently vacated by Santana's mother. Her throat instantly dry, the brunette hurried to the front door and opened it. There was Brittany, leaning against the doorframe and looking positively glowing. That same wide smile from last night was in place, and once again her eyes seemed to become even brighter as they met Santana's.

"Hey," the blonde greeted, her voice surprisingly soft.

"Hi," Santana managed, knowing there was no point trying to disguise how hoarse she was.

"I'm kinda early," Brittany said, nodding towards her car. "Can I come in?"

Stunned, Santana could only nod weakly and move aside. Brittany stepped over the threshold, throwing a wink at Santana as she passed – more than enough the make the brunette weak at the knees yet again. The shut the door and followed Brittany through into the kitchen, not quite able to believe that Brittany Pierce of all people was now in her house.

"Nice place," Brittany commented, trailing a finger along the table where Santana's half-eaten breakfast still sat. The brunette couldn't quite believe it; after what had happened last night, Brittany was making small talk?

"Thanks," she croaked, standing rather awkwardly in the doorway. Brittany continued to look around, setting her gaze upon the fridge. Her smile widened when she saw the photographs attached via magnet.

"Are these you?" she asked, sounding delighted. She moved closer and inspected them. The Latina inwardly groaned – why her parents still had pictures of her five year-old self on there, she didn't know.

"Yeah," Santana replied nervously, stepping over to the fridge and grimacing.

"Well that's just about the most fucking adorable thing I've ever seen," Brittany said, turning back to the shorter girl. "Well…almost, anyway."

"Almost?" the brunette asked before she could stop herself, and the other girl's eyes just twinkled again.

"Yeah, you were pretty cute last night, Specs," she said with a smirk, stepping past Santana and over to the table. She leant a hand against it. "Actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Last night…?" Santana breathed, her throat becoming decidedly dry.

"Don't tell me it was so much past your bedtime that you don't remember?" Brittany teased, her tongue flicking out as she smirked. The Latina didn't know how the other girl could be so casual and blasé about it; either she was even more confident than Santana had thought, or…or it hadn't meant anything to her.

Suddenly, she felt rather queasy.

"No, I remember," she said, her voice coming out as something of a whimper. "I…Brittany…why did you kiss me…?"

"You kissed me first?" Brittany replied with a shrug. However, upon seeing just how nervous the other girl seemed, her expression appeared to soften. "Okay, serious mode." Her smile faded and she stepped closer, standing right in front of Santana. The brunette could see every single freckle upon the blonde's cheeks, finding herself momentarily distracted as the taller girl looked her up and down. "Where do you want to start?"

"Why…why did you kiss me back?" Santana asked shakily. "I mean…I…me kissing you is just the sort of stupid thing I'd expect. I was flustered, and I'd just had the best night of my life, and you were just standing there, and you're the most amazing girl in the world and I…I…"

"…you want to take a breath?" the blonde asked, her smiling creeping back into place. Santana just gave her something of a pleading look.

"I…I'm okay," she managed. "Brittany, I…"

"How about I help you out?" the taller girl said, placing a hand upon Santana's shoulder. "And I'll tell you why I kissed _you_." Santana simply stood there. Hearing Brittany talking about it was just surreal. "See, I've actually had my eye on you for a while."

Wait, what?

"You…you have?" the Latina stammered. That had to be a joke. Right?

"Yup," Brittany said, looking rather pleased with herself. "Remember that time last year when Fabray tried to trip you up when you were carrying your science project?"

"She fell over because someone trod on one of her shoelaces…" Santana murmured, remembering the incident vividly – Quinn had shouted and screamed at the entire corridor for the perpetrator to fess up, but they had already disappeared into the crowd. "That…that was you? But why?"

"…'cause I like you?" Brittany said, as though it were completely obvious. "What, did you think I spent all this time with you out of pity or something?"

"I don't know," the brunette replied, shaking her head slightly. "I…I spent hours trying to figure out why you even wanted anything to do with me…"

"Well let's start with the basics, shall we?" the blonde said, folding her arms and smirking. "First of all – you're a total fucking hottie." Santana's eyes widened. "…what, no one ever told you that before?"

"…I…no…"

"Huh." Brittany didn't seem impressed. "Well you might wanna invest in some new mirrors, because you're smokin', Lopez." As Santana's eyes continued to grow ever more disbelieving, Brittany just chuckled. "Seriously, none of those pervs you hang out with have ever tried hitting on you? Christ, they must be as gay as you are."

"I…I don't think they…uh…"

"Do you want me to just say my piece?" Brittany asked, supressing a laugh. "You're kinda going overboard with the stuttering schoolgirl thing."

"Sorry." Santana replied meekly, bowing her head for a moment.

"Right, yeah, so," the blonde began, regaining her train of thought. "You're super hot, don't let anyone ever tell you different." She nodded firmly. "Second, you have got to be one of the nicest people I have ever met." Santana cocked her head to the side. "Oh come on, you must know you are."

"I…I just try to be polite, I guess," Santana said, but Brittany shook her head.

"You should probably know that I've been watching you for a while, Specs," the blonde chuckled. "You're always really sweet to everyone, even though half the school treats you like crap. Hell, you help the Glee club with all their posters and crap, right? Anyone who can put up with Berry is a saint in my book."

"Rachel's one of my oldest friends," Santana clarified. "But…yeah, I guess she can be a bit…um…"

"So annoying I'd rather eat a rusty razorblade? Yeah, she is," Brittany cut in, rolling her eyes.

"So…that's it?" Santana asked. "You think I'm attractive and nice?"

"Aren't those compliments?" the taller girl asked, almost sounding genuinely puzzled for a moment. Santana couldn't believe her own words – Brittany Pierce had just told her she was attracted to her, and now she was responding by being rude?

"Sorry!" she blurted out. "I'm sorry, I…...this is all really weird for me." She sighed, and looked away. "But why _me?_ There's plenty of nice people at school…"

"Sure there are," Brittany shrugged. "But they're not you, Santana." It was rare for the blonde to actually use her name, causing the Latina to meet her eyes again. "Look, I…I'm trying so hard to put this into words, but…" She let out a sigh of her own, and for a moment looked rather uncomfortable. "I like you, okay? That's the best way I can say it. I like _you_."

"But wh-"

"I don't fucking know, okay?" the blonde snapped, letting out a long breath and leaning against the table again. Santana felt bad for making her angry, but Brittany's behaviour was just baffling to her. Did she really mean it? She certainly seemed to be getting pretty worked up about it. "Look, when I've got my shit together, we can go over every little detail if you want, but right now…" She seemed to relax slightly, and took a step closer; their faces were suddenly almost touching. "Right now, I want to know if you like me."

"We…we've been talking about _like_ like, right?" Santana asked, swallowing nervously. Brittany nodded, actually looking rather nervous herself. Santana nodded. "Then…yes. Brittany, I…I've been drawn to you since your first day at McKinley."

"That's just what I wanted to hear."

It was a much sweeter kiss this time. Brittany was surprisingly gentle, and having half-expected it this time, Santana was faster to reciprocate. But only moments later, her doubts bubbled to the surface, and she slowly pushed the taller girl back slightly.

"Wait," she said quietly. The taller girl looked rather put out, and frowned. "Brittany, I…I've dreamt of doing this with you for so long." She swallowed uncomfortably. "But…but I can't do this if it doesn't mean as much to you. I'll probably call myself crazy for saying no to _anything_ with you, but…" She glanced to the side. "…I don't want to be a fling. I can't."

"Is that what you think of me?" Brittany asked. She didn't sound annoyed – more like confused. "Santana, I could have anyone I wanted. Shit, I could probably get Fabray into bed if I tried hard enough. But that's not me. There's…" She looked away for a moment, and Santana was positive the blonde's cheeks had taken on a slight pinkish hue. "…there's only one person I'm interested in."

"This…...this isn't a joke, is it?" Santana asked, unable to supress the hopeful feeling now bubbling in her chest.

"No. No it's not," Brittany said, quickly breaking into a wide grin.

"Wow, so…uh…" the Latina paused, looking up to meet the other girl's eyes. "Are you asking me out?"

"No."

"No…?"

Brittany smirked, and leant her head a little closer. Santana thought she was going to kiss her again, but she paused directly in front of the shorter girl's face.

"I want _you _to ask _me_," she whispered, her breath tickling the Latina's nose.

Santana let out a quiet gasp, her breath hitching in her throat as Brittany continued to watch her with unwavering attention. She swallowed with some difficulty, forcing her voice to find itself. She opened her mouth to speak.

And then fainted.

**~xxx~**

Everything was strangely warm. Santana felt as though she were wrapped up in a cosy blanket; even the air felt comforting. Letting out a content murmur, she turned slightly and snuggled further into her pillow, pressing her nose into it. She could hear distant voices, but nothing loud enough to stop her from falling back into a peaceful slumber.

Her pillow let out a chuckle, and continued stroking her hair.

What the actual fuck.

In an instant, Santana's eyes snapped open and she rolled onto her back. Above her, a mane of tangled blonde hair hung down, framing a rather amused looking face. She was in the living room, laying on the sofa with her head propped up against Brittany's thighs. The other girl herself was sat at one end of the sofa - the 'pillow' Santana had been nuzzling must have been the blonde's stomach.

"Morning, beautiful," Brittany said, bright eyes shining with adoration. Santana blinked up at her, brow knitted in confusion.

"What happened?" she asked, half-heartedly telling herself she should sit up.

"You asked me out by collapsing into me," Brittany replied with an amused shrug. "Honestly I would have settled for a 'Brittany, will you be my girlfriend?', but your way was good too." She smirked, biting at her bottom lip again. "Still said yes, though."

Well that made Santana sit up.

"What?" she asked hoarsely, twisting around to sit alongside the other girl. "You mean…you mean we're…"

"Dating?" Brittany finished for her. "Yup."

Santana looked away, her mouth hanging half open. She was getting tired of disbelieving every little thing that was happening to her, but this? She was _dating Brittany Pierce?_ Once again, she found herself wondering whether Brittany really had killed her on the doorstep after the movie – just how could everything that had happened since be real? She looked up at the source of the voices she had heard – the television.

"Have you been watching cartoons this whole time?"

"Maybe," Brittany replied with a sly smirk. "Oh, I put my number in your phone." As she spoke, she held the device up. "Figured it was about time."

"But…my phone has a password lock on it," Santana pointed out, taking it back from Brittany.

"Yeah, same numbers as your locker combination," the blonde replied casually, clearly delighted at the incredulous look upon the Latina's face.

"I thought you said you'd had your eye on me, not that you were stalking me," Santana said, but she was far from angry – knowing that Brittany had been paying attention to her all this time? Just about the best feeling since waking up snuggled into her.

"Hey, you said you'd been eying me up since you first saw me," Brittany shot back, giving the other girl a playful shove. "You're the pervert, Lopez."

Santana couldn't help but laugh, rolling her eyes at the other girl's antics. She didn't know whether it was her somehow adapting to the situation, or just so baffled by it all that she couldn't help but feel giddy. She decided that there was no point worrying about how ridiculous this all was right now – not when Brittany was sat right next to her. She looked back at her phone, intending to see whether Brittany's claim about getting into it was true.

And almost screamed.

They were nearly two hours late for school.

In much the same way as she had sat up in shock only moments ago, she launched herself onto her feet, panic coursing through her. Brittany just stayed where she was, quirking an eyebrow at the Latina's sudden movement. Santana checked the clock beside the television to make sure, and found the same time staring back at her. Elation turned to horror as it sank in – she had never so much as been late to a single class during her entire high school career, and now _this?_

"What's up?" Brittany asked, almost as though she hadn't noticed the terrified expression upon the other girl's face.

"_What's up?"_ Santana repeated, aghast. "We're late for school! _Very_ late for school!"

"…so?" the blonde asked, frowning. "Go to school, or spend the day with my girlfriend… Yeah, that's real difficult to choose from."

"Well _your girlfriend_ is going to school," Santana snapped before she could stop herself. She was almost out of the room before she realised exactly what she had said, pausing on the spot and slowly turning to the blonde. Brittany was grinning ear to ear, looking as though Christmas had come early for her.

"Well if my girlfriend is so set on it…" she began, getting to her feet and straightening her jacket, before shooting Santana a smirk. "…who am I to refuse?"

**~xxx~**

Arriving in the middle of a class, there was no need for Santana to walk the last part of the journey. She all but flew out of Brittany's car, before the blonde had even switched the engine off. Santana was a good ten meters away before realising her bag was still on the back seat; just what was causing her to become so scatter-brained? Brittany just laughed and handed it to her as she caught up, shaking her head in amusement at the Latina's mumbled thanks.

Once inside but before parting ways, Brittany took a quick look up and down the empty corridor, before leaning down and placing a quick kiss upon Santana's lips. Despite her usual light-heartedness, there was definitely an extra spring in the blonde's step as she headed off. Santana knew it would take a while to come to terms with all this – if it really was for real and not some elaborate joke – but right now, school came first.

As it transpired, she needn't have worried so much. Perhaps due in part to her stellar attendance record, her teacher barely batted an eyelid as she entered halfway through the class. She hated feeling smug about it, but given her grades, who would dare suggest that Santana Lopez of all people didn't have a good reason to miss school?

'_Brittany is a pretty good reason, though_,' that voice said, and Santana couldn't help but agree.

At lunch, her thoughts turned back to the blonde. Her friends were trying to ask her about the movie, but it was a testament to just how distracted she was that Santana had found herself asking 'what movie?' at first. She could see Brittany leaning against the wall on the other side of the lunch hall, deep in conversation with Puck. She knew they were friends, but it had been a while since she had seen them talking. Santana wished she could read lips, because whatever it was they were discussing, it seemed to be pretty important. She wondered whether Brittany was talking about her; she knew the blonde hadn't wanted their friendship to be known, and supposed it would be the same for them dating – even thinking the word made her want to squeal – but she wondered whether the blonde had confided in anyone. She knew Puck and Brittany had gone to the same school before McKinley, but due to their year's separation, as well as the mohawked boy's association with Quinn Fabray, she couldn't quite believe that Brittany would share such sensitive information.

She made a mental note to ask Brittany after school, and as she headed to the gym at the end of the day, her thoughts returned to the issue of just how secret this was going to be. She couldn't blame Brittany for wanting it to be hidden; she knew others might say she shouldn't be with someone who wasn't prepared to be open about it, but this was Brittany Pierce – she was more than willing to give her however much time she needed. Santana knew she was being hopelessly optimistic, but she would be lying if she said she hadn't already – fleetingly, mind you – pictured just what this meant for the future. They had been dating for mere hours – weak at the knees just thinking about it again – and already she was imagining a future together with Brittany. Was that normal? She had never dated anyone, let alone someone she would be more than happy to spend her life with. Hell, was already thinking she wanted to spend her life with Brittany even healthy?

Head buzzing with questions once more, Santana barely registered that she had made it to the musty old gym until she found herself face to face with Brittany. The blonde was already changed and prepared for her work-out, but grinned as she saw Santana approaching.

"Heyyy, there's my lady," she said brightly, walking over and pulling a rather surprised Santana into a hug. Just the simple feeling of those strong arms around her was enough to make Santana's head spin for entirely different reasons, and she found herself taking a deep breath into the blonde's shoulder, taking in the intoxicating smell of the other girl. She had often seen those badly written romantic stories where people are described as smelling like flowers, or nice foods, or even coffee – but the reality was different. Brittany smelt like Brittany.

And god did she smell good.

Pulling away, Santana gave the blonde a shy smile, unable to resist as she saw the delight in those blue eyes. However, Brittany seemed to be able to tell something was up.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sounding distinctly less cheerful. "You look kinda shitty."

"Oh, I…ah…I was just wondering…" she trailed off, not quite sure how to word it. "How many people know about us? I mean…not just the dating thing, but everything since we met…"

Brittany was silent for a moment, regarding Santana carefully, before she turned away and headed to her punch bag. She motioned for Santana to follow, and the brunette quickly took her usual spot to watch. She wondered whether Brittany was going to leave her without an answer, but before the blonde started, she spoke.

"A couple of people," she said, voice surprisingly quiet. "Puck knows. And Kurt Hummel. You know, from Glee club?"

"Yeah, I know Kurt," Santana said with a nod. "I'm a bit surprised you do, though."

Brittany chuckled. "I know everyone," she said, eyes sparkling. Santana was relieved to see her smiling again, at least. "And before you start worrying, Puck isn't going to tell Fabray – if he wanted to drop me in the shit, he could have given her all kinds of dirt on me a long time ago."

"And Kurt?" Santana asked. She wanted to know exactly what 'dirt' Puck had on Brittany, but right now couldn't believe that Brittany and Kurt knew each other well enough for the blonde to trust him with that information. It's not that he wasn't trustworthy – it was just unexpected.

"I've known Kurt since just after I arrived here," the taller girl replied. "Ask me later and I'll give you the full story."

"Okay…" Santana said with a slow nod.

"You can tell your little nerd clan, you know," Brittany said, checking the bandages around her hands. "I don't wanna make you lie to them."

"I wouldn't know where to start," the brunette replied, letting out a sigh. "Besides, we…well…we've been dating for less than a day, so…"

"You wanna make sure it's not gonna crash and burn before it's even started?" Brittany asked with a grin. "Fair enough – but I ain't gonna ruin this. That's a promise."

Heart soaring, Santana settled as Brittany set to work on the punch bag. As she watched, Santana couldn't stop remind herself that she was _dating_ the magnificent woman in front of her. She had no experience, no expectations, and still no real clue why Brittany wanted anything to do with her. But even if it was doomed to fail, the more she watched, the more she became determined to make this – whatever _this_ was – work. After the day's events, every little detail seemed to become more pronounced to Santana's eyes; the way the blonde's always-messy hair stick to her forehead with sweat, the way her eyes narrowed just a little bit before every punch, the way she managed to make such raw strength somehow look graceful. All was amplified, and Santana wanted nothing more than every single facet of Brittany to burn itself into her memory.

Later, as Brittany was packing her equipment away, Santana finally voiced a question she had been wondering all day.

"How long have you liked girls?" she asked quietly. Brittany stopped what she was doing, and gave her a searching look; it was as though she was looking for an ulterior motive. Santana couldn't help but feel she had done something wrong, and instantly regretted it. "I mean…um…I just assumed…uh…"

"A while," Brittany replied stiffly. "Well, I guess you could call me bi or pan or whatever, I dunno…I just like hot people. I mean, I guess I lean a bit more towards girls? Maybe that has something to do with all this…" She patted a hand against the punch bag slung over her shoulder. "I haven't exactly been with a whole load of people, you know."

"Oh. Oh, no, I didn't mean…" Santana trailed off, still feeling guilty. "I was just wondering…"

"Add it to the list of things to ask me later," Brittany said, disappearing into the store room. Santana nodded to herself. She couldn't blame Brittany for not wanting to spill everything right away; she supposed that given the blonde's personality, everything would be on the surface. But she was quickly learning that that was far from the case, and thought for a moment how little she would appreciate someone prying in the same way she herself was doing to Brittany. As she watched the blonde coming back into view, she made a decision – forget everything she thought she knew about Brittany Pierce, and find out for herself. If they were dating, that made sense, right?

Brittany finished getting changed, smirking as Santana watched her putting her belly piercing back in. She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, but then she did something Santana didn't expect.

She held out her hand.

It might have been a secret for now, with a lot of questions still to be answered, but as Santana Lopez walked out into the afternoon sun, hand in hand with Brittany Pierce, she couldn't help but feel that everything was right.


	7. Extra Credit

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**~xxx~**

On Saturday morning, Santana awoke in something of a daze. In her mind's eye, she replayed the last words Brittany had spoken to her on Friday evening. The same words she had said the night before.

"_See you tomorrow."_

All through dinner, and the hours following, sat on her computer, Santana didn't question the blonde's words. It wasn't until she was in bed, just about to drift off to sleep, that something curious occurred to her – tomorrow was the weekend. She had quite a hard time getting to sleep after the realisation hit her; did Brittany mean she was coming over on a Saturday? She wanted to text or call her, but it was nearly midnight – Brittany could be asleep for all she knew. And for a moment, Santana pondered just what the blonde was doing at that exact moment. It was a truly bizarre feeling – laying there in bed, realising that she had a girlfriend out there. Someone who – so she claimed – genuinely wanted to be with her. It made Santana feel both warm and terrified at the same time; part of her was demanding she stop questioning whether this was real or not and just seize the moment, but another was screaming that this whole thing had to be some sort of game; some sort of trick just to embarrass her for Brittany's amusement.

She fell into a restless sleep, and when her eyes opened to the morning sun, her mind was no less uneasy. Was she really thinking clearly? Or was she just distracted because this was _Brittany Pierce_ of all people?

Santana never found an answer, as she was jolted into wakefulness by the shrill sound of her phone. It vibrated irritatingly against her desk, causing the brunette to curse not leaving it on her bedside table. Grimacing, she half slid, half rolled out of bed and staggered towards the desk, grabbing the phone and glaring at the screen.

Rachel.

She sighed and ran a hand through her tousled hair, finally answering the ringing phone.

"Good morning, Santana!" Rachel chirped, coming dangerously close to a sing-song voice.

"Hi," the Latina replied, inwardly groaning – she knew exactly what this was about.

"I just thought I'd let you know that I am leaving my house – heading through the door right now, actually – and I'll be there in ten minutes," Rachel said quickly; Santana could almost _feel _the bright smile the girl must have been wearing.

"…fine," Santana muttered, rubbing at her eyes with the palm of her free hand. Everything was most certainly not fine. "See you."

She ended the call without even waiting for Rachel's response, suddenly overtaken by blind panic. Did she really say ten minutes? She let out a groan and tossed her phone onto her bed, quickly followed by her pajamas. This wasn't the first time Rachel had done this, but it was no less irritating. They had been friends since long before high school, and Santana had to wonder whether that was really the only reason they still were – their interests were hardly similar. When they were younger, Santana had rolled her eyes at Rachel's Broadway ambitions, but after all this time, she had almost come to admire the other girl's conviction. It sometimes made her wish she had something to focus on in a such a way, but as things currently stood – just getting through school without ending up permanently smelling of slushie was her main priority.

Five minutes later, she was downstairs. Her parents were both in the kitchen, laughing at something her father had just said, when Santana skidded into the room.

"My god, you're up and dressed before lunchtime!" her father joked, raising his eyebrows. "Where's the fire?"

"Very funny," Santana replied waspishly. "Rachel just phoned – and woke me up in the process – saying she's on her way here."

"Well maybe if you didn't spend so long on your computer every night, you wouldn't have so much trouble waking up earlier," her mother commented, rolling her eyes as she passed on her way to the fridge. "You didn't mention Rachel was coming over."

"Oh, I…" Santana looked away, suddenly feeling rather guilty. "I've been really busy lately. Must have slipped my mind."

"Well, we're going to be out most of the day, so you'll have the house to yourself," Maribel said. Santana's father just chuckled.

"I think what your mother is trying to say is that you'll have to suffer through Rachel's 'afternoon vocal exercises' alone," he said, folding his newspaper and placing it on the table. "Which I am sure we _both _deeply regret."

"Speak for yourself," Maribel snapped. "Last time I swear that girl was trying to break every glass object in the house."

"I'm calling Social Services on you two," Santana said, shaking her head at her parents. "Abandoning me to suffer like that."

"She's your friend, not ours," her mother replied with a bright smile, placing a kiss on Santana's head as she passed back the other way. "Oh, and she's here."

Seconds later, the doorbell rang. Santana let out a sigh and began walking backwards into the hallway. "Social Services," she repeated, pointing at both her parents in turn.

**~xxx~**

A short while later, Santana and Rachel were up in the Latina's room. Santana at her desk, Rachel standing in the middle of the room.

"You can sit, you know," Santana remarked, glancing over her shoulder. The other girl just shook her head.

"I have to stay upright for as long as possible," she said, as though it were perfectly obvious. "My posture has to remain perfect."

"…right." Santana just rolled her eyes and turned back to her laptop. "How does this version look?"

The entire reason for Rachel's visit – and Santana's rude awakening – was currently displayed upon the screen. Given their existing friendship, as well as Santana's artistic skills, Rachel had enlisted her as the 'official' graphic designer for McKinley's Glee Club. Whenever they went to competitions, it was up to Santana to design whatever lighting schemes, special effects, and even banners for the side of the bus that they needed. There was nothing in it for Santana herself, but she didn't have to heart to say no to Rachel – and at the end of the day, it was nice to feel needed.

"Well it's definitely getting there," Rachel said, not sounding at all convinced. "But won't that blue clash with our outfits?"

"Rachel, I can't tailor the stage lighting to match the exact hue and saturation of your clothes," Santana said – not for the first time. "If you want to match, you're going to have to change the clothes." Rachel just stood there for a moment, looking as though she wanted to argue but couldn't find the right words for it. Santana couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle at her friend's almost pained expression. "For what it's worth, with the lights shining on you, your outfits will look the same shade of blue anyway," she said. That seemed to calm Rachel down somewhat. "Look, how about we just focus on the logo details today? There's still two weeks until Regionals, right?"

But unsurprisingly, that went just as well as the lighting scheme conversation.

"I'm still not sure it really speaks of who we are as a group," Rachel protested. "And what happened to the gold star being incorporated into it?"

"I had to remove it after Mr Schuester e-mailed me – yes your Glee Club teacher actually _e-mailed_ me – and told me it wasn't appropriate," Santana explained. She had been meaning to pick a bone with Rachel about that.

"Well," Rachel began haughtily. "Mr Schue doesn't always know what's best for the choir."

"Can we just forget the gold stars and at least decide on the colors?" Santana said, beginning to sound rather exasperated. "Please?"

It went on like that for nearly two more hours, with Rachel picking apart every single little facet of Santana's work. Eventually, she seemed almost satisfied, and congratulated Santana on 'their' efforts. With that over, Rachel finally gave in and sat down. For Santana, it couldn't have come soon enough – pre-k friendship or not, she was getting ready to strangle the other girl.

"So…" Rachel began, looking around a little awkwardly. "Um, how are you?"

"I'm fine," Santana replied, somewhat amused by how unsure Rachel seemed of herself when she actually had to stop barking orders. "Well, better than fine, actually."

"Oh?" Rachel perked up. "Well, I always thought you looked better with a smile. Yours is nearly as pretty as mine, I think. What has you so happy?"

"Oh…you know…nothing_ that_ exciting," the Latina said, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything. She was just as close to Rachel as she was to her other friends, but the wannabe diva was the last person she would tell of her time with Brittany.

"Well either way, I'm glad you're happy," Rachel said with a nod. "Now hopefully you can channel all that happiness into making our staging as good as it can be."

"Yeah, I'll do that…" Santana replied, only half listening. She had made something of an interesting discovery while talking to Rachel.

Thinking about Brittany made the other girl's voice almost bearable.

After another hour or so making smalltalk, Rachel went on her way – apparently she needed to consult Kurt on precisely what jewellery to wear for their Sectionals performance. Now alone in the house, Santana flopped back onto her bed and closed her eyes. She was no longer tired and groggy, but part of her almost wanted to take an afternoon nap. It was mostly dark outside now, and all Santana really felt like doing was relaxing. She had very little homework; nothing that couldn't be done tomorrow afternoon. Instead, she moved back to her computer and spent a while checking for updates on the various websites and social streams she followed. Filming news for a sci-fi movie she had her eye on, leaked script files from a video game that wasn't yet released, and finally a release date for a limited edition action figure she had been after for a while – all in all, nothing out of the ordinary.

Although, the face that was staring at her from the other side of her window? That was something of a surprise.

She almost fell out of her chair in shock, clutching her chest as Brittany just laughed. Even through the glass, Santana could hear her. She glared at the blonde, not even questioning just how she had managed to scale the side of the house to get where she was. Part of her just wanted to leave the blonde out there as punishment for scaring her like that, but all it took was a few seconds of those bright blue eyes to completely melt any anger she had felt. Quickly, she unlatched the window and pulled it open.

Brittany quickly clambered in, dressed in her usual leather jacket and jeans. As Santana closed the window, the taller girl brushed a little brick dust from her clothes.

"I'm guessing it didn't occur to you that there's a perfectly good front door down there?" Santana asked, turning to face the other girl. Brittany just shrugged.

"Maybe, but I didn't know if your folks were home," she said, stepping closer. "And I wanted to do this as soon as I saw you…"

Swiftly, she pulled the shorter girl into a rather hungry kiss. Before she could stop herself, Santana let out something halfway between a groan and a sigh, melting completely into Brittany's embrace. If any part of her had ever felt reluctant in doing this, it was long since dead. She steadied herself against the desk behind her, rapidly losing focus of everything that wasn't Brittany.

As always, Brittany didn't release her as soon as they pulled away. She just rested her head against Santana's, her breathing just as laboured as the brunette's.

"Been wanting to do that all day…" she said, smiling toothily at the shorter girl.

"Could have done with it a little sooner," Santana replied shakily, breaking into a smile of her own. "I had Rachel Berry here all day."

"Fuck, you serious?" Brittany pulled away, an eyebrow raised. "What did the Hobbit want?"

"I make the Glee Club's stage stuff," Santana explained. "You know, logos, graphics, lighting routines." She chuckled to herself. "Sometimes Rachel's more of an Orc than a Hobbit, anyway."

"A what now?" the blonde asked. By this point, she had turned away and had taken to inspecting Santana's many shelves.

"Oh, they're…it's just you called her a Hobbit. Orcs are some of the….ah…" she trailed off, feeling her cheeks starting to burn. "…you know…bad guys…from Lord of the Rings?"

"Never seen it," Brittany replied with a shrug. Santana nearly pointed out that 'it' was three separate movies, derived from three separate books, but held her tongue as best she could. "Huh, this looks cool…"

She reached for a Star Trek model on the shelf nearest to her, but before she could touch it, Santana was at her side and stopping her.

"Don't!" the brunette snapped, her eyes wide. Brittany just shot her a look of confusion.

"Christ, calm down, Specs," she said. Her voice was bordering on annoyance. "I wasn't gonna break it." She took a step back away from the shelf and held her hands up. "See? Not touching anything."

"No, no, Brittany, it's not…" Santana trailed off, turning back to the model. She reached under it and lifted it from it's stand, turning back to Brittany. "You have to hold it like this." With this clarification, Brittany's expression softened. "They were never made very well, so you have to hold them from this bit, otherwise it'll just snap."

Brittany moved closer again, and gently placed her fingers alongside Santana's beneath the model ship. Santana could almost feel an electric tingle running across her skin as the blonde's fingers brushed against her own; her breath hitched briefly, before she managed to pull her hand away, leaving Brittany holding the model. She turned it slowly, bright eyes moving over it with interest.

"Pretty cool," she remarked. "You paint this yourself?"

"Some of it," Santana replied, feeling her cheeks burning again. "Just the details. It comes pre-painted, but I wanted it to be a bit more accurate, so…"

"Nice job," Brittany said, gently easing the model back onto it's stand. "I'd never have the patience for something like that."

"You rebuilt your car from a complete wreck," the Latina pointed out. "Right?" Brittany paused for a moment, before smiling.

"Guess I did," she said. She took a step back and turned on the spot, getting one last look at the room in general. She let out a whistle. "It's like Nerdvana in here."

"You should see Artie's room," Santana said, shaking her head with amusement. "It's easily ten times as bad."

"Never said yours was bad," Brittany replied, turning back to Santana. "Besides, I'd much rather be in your room that Artie's…" She glanced up a the Harry Potter poster on the nearest wall. "Can't quite believe I'm finally in here…"

Now just what did _that_ mean?

The previous morning, Brittany had said she had had her eye on Santana for a while. At the time, the brunette had just brushed it off as a silly comment; but was the blonde being serious? She had seemed pretty shaken up while confessing her attraction to Santana, and suddenly the Latina felt somewhat guilty for assuming she was the only one slightly confused by what was going on between them.

"Brittany…" she murmured, diverting her eyes from the other girl and staring at the floor. "When you kissed me, you said it was 'about time.' You said you'd been attracted to me for a while…"

"Yeah, I did." Brittany definitely seemed unsure of herself now. "Crap, look, I…ughh." She ran a hand through her tangled hair. "Alright, you wanna know the truth?" Santana nodded. "I've wanted to date you pretty much the whole time I've been at McKinley."

Is there a more eloquent way of saying 'what the flying fuck?'

Santana couldn't believe the words she had just heard. She refused to listen to her nagging doubts and assume it was a lie, but still… Brittany had wanted her for that long? Without ever having spoken to her?

"You're serious?" she asked, her voice coming out as something of a croak.

"Yes." Brittany said with a nod, seemingly more to herself than the other girl. "Yes, I have." She finally cracked a smile. "What, you think I don't get crushes too?"

"But...me?" Santana asked. "Why me?"

"I could ask the same," the blonde countered. "Look, do I really need to justify it?" She let out a brief laugh. "Trust me to end up lusting after the one person who needs me to write an essay on why I like them…"

"No, no you don't need to, but…" Santana trailed off, forcing herself to meet Brittany's eyes. "This is just going to take a while to get used to. You and me. Us, I guess…"

"Well yeah, I get that," the taller girl replied, nodding again. "Not every day you end up dating the most awesome girl at school."

"And she's oh-so modest," Santana replied, before she could stop herself. But rather than seeming offended, Brittany's smile only widened.

"You know, you're pretty awesome when you poke your head out of that shell of yours," she commented, biting her bottom lip. "You make my lady parts go all tingly when you're pissed off."

Oh, the mental images.

"Well you're definitely the first person to say that to me," Santana replied shakily, forcing herself to remain calm. Hearing Brittany say that had just about sapped her ability to even stand properly.

"I should fucking hope so," the blonde said, sounding affronted. "No one hits on my girl."

Santana felt a rush of warmth running up and down her chest. It wasn't so much the words themselves, but more the fact that they were aimed at her. Brittany really, definitely, genuinely wanted to be with her. She had no doubt anymore.

"I'm guessing you planned the whole picking me up and driving me home thing, then?" Santana asked, trying her best to move the conversation away from Brittany's 'lady parts.'

"Hm?" Brittany looked over, having been momentarily distracted by a nearby action figure. "Oh, nah that was just chance." She bit her lip again, eyes focussing somewhat as she remembered. "I'd been wanting to talk to you for a long time, but I could hardly just walk up to you, you know? I'd thought about cornering you after class, or maybe dragging you off and making it look like I was gonna beat you up, but…" Her smiled faded slightly. "I didn't wanna force it. Didn't wanna scare you off…"

"Brittany, half the school is scared of you," Santana reminded her, and Brittany chuckled.

"Hey, just because I can smash someone's skull in without even trying – I could be a fluffy little bunny inside," she joked.

Santana just raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, totally not," Brittany said, laughing again. "But you know what I mean – I couldn't just talk to you there. But then that day, I was driving home, and there you were."

"Hmm, I dunno," Santana said, a small smile creeping onto her face. "I still think a weather machine was involved."

"Nah," the blonde replied with a shrug. "Now, if you could get me a time machine, that'd be great."

Santana was quiet for a moment, before reached towards the nearest shelve and handing something to Brittany. "Here." The blonde took it, frowning as she inspected it.

"…it's a blue box?" she asked, looking up with confusion. Santana just rolled her eyes.

"It's the TARDIS," she explained. "…from Doctor Who?"

"Sorry," Brittany replied, handing it back. "You know I don't speak nerd."

"So just what do you speak?" Santana asked, placing the model back on the shelf. Brittany was right; the more she talked, the more she felt as though she was emerging from a shell. It was becoming easier and easier to talk to her without becoming embarrassed.

"I speak…" Brittany trailed off, looking around the room for a moment. Her eyes landed on floor beside Santana's bed, and widened with glee. "…the language of how fucking sexy I think you'd look in that Batman underwear."

Okay, so the embarrassment was back.

"Oh my god," Santana gasped, diving for the undergarments in an attempt to hide them. But Brittany was way too fast, beating her to them and grabbing them with one hand, using the other to hold Santana back. "Brittany, drop the underwear,"

"Make me," the blonde growled, smiling that damn toothy grin again. Santana took a deep breath.

"Put them down or I'll make you leave," she said, not even sounding remotely intimidating.

"You're in between me and the door, genius," Brittany scoffed.

"I'll move."

"Fine, I'll just take them with me," the blonde said, faking a serious tone and straightening up. "Maybe I'll go home and sniff them."

"Brittany!"

Santana's face felt so hot it was almost painful. Had she heard that right? She knew Brittany had a foul mouth, but _really?_

"What's so bad about that?" the taller girl asked innocently, her eyes twinkling. "Wanting to bury my head between your legs is fine, but sniffing the underwear that goes over them is bad? I don't get it."

"Well I think- …wait…what?" Santana breathed. "You…I…._what?"_

"I told you," Brittany said, her smile widening again. "You're a total hottie. Who wouldn't want some of that?" She gestured up and down Santana's body, causing the brunette to suddenly feel rather self-conscious.

"Brittany…" she repeated, much quieter this time. Sensing she may have crossed some sort of line, the blonde dropped the underwear to the bed and pulled Santana into an embrace.

"Too far?" she asked. Santana just held on tighter.

"…no one has ever…" she murmured, voice muffled by the blonde's shoulder. "….never meant it…"

"I know it's only been a few days, but you're gonna have to get used to the fact that us dating isn't some kind of joke," Brittany said quietly, bringing a hand up to stroke Santana's hair.

"I know, it's just…" Santana sighed, pulling her head back a little to look into those blue eyes. "It still feels like a dream."

"Come on, Specs – like it or not, you're one of the hottest pieces of ass going in that crappy school of ours," she said, chuckling to herself. But again, her eyes softened. "…and one of the kindest. That's a rare combination."

"Says the girl always complimenting me," Santana replied, forcing a smile and sniffling a little; she hadn't even realised tears had been forming. "It's fine. Just…just give me some time…"

"Well, I could bend you over your desk and fuck you senseless if it'd take the edge off."

"…maybe not right now."

Brittany chuckled and gave Santana a tight squeeze, before pulling away and smiling down at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Santana murmured, rubbing at her eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. Sorry about that…"

"Hey, it's fine," Brittany replied. "But no more tears and freaking out that I want be with you, okay? Whenever I see you cry I wanna beat the shit out of whoever's caused it, and when it's me…well…I don't really want to punch myself in the face, you know?"

Santana laughed, and was just about to reply, when the sound of the front door opening interrupted her. She looked at Brittany, not sure whether she should be panicking or not.

"My parents are back," she hissed. Brittany looked nonplussed.

"Or someone's robbing you," she replied casually. Santana just gave her a look and moved past her, heading for the door. "Hey, wait, where you going?"

"…to say hi to my parents?" Santana tried, rather surprised at how nervous Brittany suddenly seemed. "Why?"

"Well at am I gonna do? Hide under the bed?" she asked, gesturing at it.

"Or you could maybe just come down with me?" the Latina asked, still baffled by the other girl's behaviour. "I'm just going to say you're a friend. What, did you think I was just going to suddenly say 'Hi mom and dad, this is my girlfriend, Brittany'?"

"As much as I love hearing you call me that, I get your point," Brittany replied with a nod. "…you sure they're not gonna freak when they see me? They probably know who I am."

"If they ask, I'm helping you with your homework," Santana said. Brittany's eyebrows shot up.

"Christ. Thanks, _honey_," she muttered, crossing her arms. "You want me to start flinging my crap at the walls or something? Maybe start drooling everywhere?"

"Brittany, that's not what I-"

But Santana was cut off when the door opened, and her mother stepped into the room.

"Rachel, is that a new ca- …oh, hello."

The brunette was pretty sure her mother recognised Brittany.

Maribel's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as she looked the blonde up and down. Brittany's expression was carefully neutral. If she was actually nervous about meeting Santana's parents, she didn't show it.

"Santana, aren't you going to introduce your friend?" she asked, and Santana inwardly groaned. She thought parents only ever asked that in movies – Maribel was definitely unimpressed.

"Mom, this is Brittany," she said, managing a smile. "I've been helping her with some homework."

Brittany's eye twitched.

"Really? Oh, well that's very generous of you," Maribel said, suddenly brightening up. Santana had to wonder what exactly her mother had thought was going on. "How long have you two known each other?"

"Oh, umm…" Santana trailed of, glancing over to the other girl.

"Quite a while," Brittany piped up, smiling through her teeth. "Santana just never had the time to help me before now."

"Are you staying for dinner?" Maribel asked kindly, but Brittany quickly shook her head.

"No, I…" She turned to Santana. "I should probably be going."

"I'll see you off," Santana replied quickly.

With the front door closed behind them, Brittany seemed to visibly relax. She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

"You okay?" the shorter girl asked, rather baffled that she was now the one asking that.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the blonde replied with a shrug. "Just kinda had a different mental image of how I'd meet your parents."

"Oh?" Santana smiled, folding her arms. "Did you have a speech prepared?"

"Ha, oh no nothing like that," the taller girl replied, finally smiling. "No, I always pictured them either finding us in the middle of doing the deed-" Santana's eyes widened. "-or you introducing me to them all formally and shit."

"Next time," Santana said, earning a nod from Brittany.

"Well, I guess I better be off," the blonde said, gesturing towards her car. Santana noticed that her parents had been forced to park on the curb. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Okay." Santana nodded, unfolding her arms as Brittany stepped closer. Given their proximity to the door, they were out of sight from the kitchen window – something Santana was hardly complaining about.

Despite Brittany's odd behaviour, the kiss was just as fervent as always, and left the Latina rather breathless and light-headed.

"If you need me, just text or something," Brittany said, stepping backwards towards her car.

"I will," Santana replied with another nod. "And…thanks for coming today." She smiled. "I had a really nice time."

"You just liked having me all to yourself in your room," Brittany smirked, waggling her eyebrows.

"Oh just go already."

**~xxx~**

If Santana had been worried that Brittany's strange mood would carry over to the next week, she was pleasantly surprised. The blonde was her usual self when she arrived on Monday morning, and even joked that she should keep her actual homework in the car at all times in case an excuse was ever needed. But the best part of the day came just before lunch; Santana was on her way to her locker, when she heard a rather angry voice call her name.

Quinn Fabray, positively seething, was walking towards her. Her hair still bore the results of Brittany's prank, and she was carrying a fresh slushie in one hand. Santana swallowed, bracing herself for what was surely to follow.

But at the last minute, they were interrupted.

"Hey, Fabray!" Brittany's cheerful voice called. "Been looking all over for you!" She approached from behind Quinn, not even pausing as she casually swiped the slushie from the other blonde's hand. She took a slurp from it, before licking her lips. "You know, I like these red ones," she commented thoughtfully. "But not as nice as the _blue _ones, don't you think?" Quinn looked murderous. "Nice roots by the way."

She took another slurp, and just as she passed Santana, held out the slushie for her to take.

"Hey there, Sexy," she greeted quietly so only Santana could hear, winking as she continued on her way.

It couldn't be denied: Brittany Pierce was a pretty awesome girlfriend.


	8. Memories

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**This chapter is by far the longest yet, and was originally even longer than this. But after spending two days tweaking and editing it, I decided to hack part of it off and save it for the next chapter.  
**

**I also take no responsibility for any feels this particular chapter may induce.  
**

**~xxx~**

The week passed with something resembling normality. As always, Brittany drove Santana to and from school, with the pair of them hanging out while Brittany spent time in the gym. Santana had resumed her usual club activities, if only to assure her friends that there was nothing unusual going on. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with them – she was hardly going to throw her oldest friends away because she had been dating Brittany for a week. But at the same time, she would have been lying had she said that time with the blonde wasn't more enjoyable.

She had gone over several different ways of revealing the relationship to her friends, but every single plan ended with them either not believing her, hating her for keeping it secret, or turning their backs on her because it was Brittany Pierce she was dating.

But despite her doubts, it was impossible not to smile every time she reminded herself that she and Brittany were actually dating. Santana was inexperienced, but she was far from naïve; she had experienced first-hand how cruel people could be, and she could just not find any evidence that Brittany wasn't being honest with her. It was a bizarre feeling, but every time the blonde shot her a wink when they passed in the corridors; every time she arrived just in time to divert Quinn Fabray's attention; every time she pulled her in for a firm kiss before dropping her off at home – it all made Santana feel more and more confident that this was something real.

**~xxx~**

On Friday, Santana had another rather unpleasant run-in with Quinn. Despite Brittany's increased presence around her, whether by chance or an attempt to keep it less obvious, the blonde couldn't always be there to stop Quinn. And so, just after lunch, Santana found her face once again covered in icy red mush. As she slowly made her way to the nearest girls' bathroom, the Latina mused that it was actually the first slushie of the week; that had to be a new record. But even as she began cleaning it from her face, she couldn't wash the mental image of Quinn Fabray's laughing face from her mind. Part of her almost wanted to just blurt out that she was dating Brittany; that'd be the easiest way to get the cheerleader off her back.

And an even smaller part of her just wanted to punch Quinn herself.

As she continued her familiar routine, Santana heard the door open. Before it closed, she was distinctly aware of the laughter still ringing from the corridor beyond. The brunette wondered if it was Quinn again, come to gloat – or just slushie her right away again. She was about to brace herself, when she caught sight of an entirely different blonde in the mirrors, and relaxed.

"Shit," Brittany muttered, moving over to her and frowning. "Guess I don't need to ask who did this?"

"Have a guess," Santana sighed, wiping across her forehead. Brittany just rolled her eyes and leant against the wall. Then, with an almost curious look, she reached forward and used her own finger to wipe at Santana's cheek, licking the slushie from it.

"Hm," she murmured. "You know, I think red is your color." Santana quirked an eyebrow. "But maybe not on your face."

"Is this the part where you make a joke about wanting to make me red in the face?" Santana asked, instantly regretting her sharp tone. But Brittany didn't seem to care.

"Nah, this is the part where I tell you that I'll see you in the gym," the blonde replied with a shrug, pushing away from the wall and heading back towards the door. "Catch you later, babe."

Santana was disappointed that Brittany had left so soon, but just getting the chance to talk to her again had lifted her spirits somewhat. A few moments later, she was as clean as she was going to get, and pulled her bag back over her shoulder. But just as Santana was about to reach the door, she heard a rather loud scream from the corridor, followed by a chorus of more laughter. She pushed the door open, and found a rather incredible sight before her.

Quinn Fabray, stood motionless in the corridor, with a blue slushie running down her back. Her ponytail was drenched, and the red of her Cheerios uniform was quickly turning a sickly shade of purple. Tearing her eyes away, Santana searched for the culprit, and was shocked to see Jacob Ben Israel stood a short distance away, an empty cup in his hand.

If Brittany had been there, she probably would have described him as 'shitting himself.'

And as if on cue, Santana caught sight of something. Further along the corridor, far beyond the crowd focussed on Quinn, was Brittany. With no more than a wink and a smile, she disappeared round the corner. Santana turned her attention back to Quinn, and flinched when she saw that the blonde was – rather than reacting to Jacob Ben Israel – staring daggers at her. She didn't say a word, but something in those green eyes was different. Santana clutched the strap of her bag tighter, and watched as Quinn finally rounded on Jacob.

"I…I didn't…" he stammered. "…she…she gave….she gave it to me after…I didn't…"

"You just made the biggest mistake of your miserable little life," Quinn spat. But for now, she seemed satisfied with pushing Santana out of the way and storming into the bathroom.

Santana felt for Jacob, but she found herself unable to disapprove of what Brittany had clearly done – Jacob, after all, had been the one to make sure the news of Santana's outing had spread like wildfire throughout the school.

Instead, she just made her way to lunch, unable to hide her smile as she pictured Quinn with slushie running down her neck.

**~xxx~**

The following Saturday, Santana made a point of getting up early. After being dropped off the previous afternoon with another cryptic 'See you tomorrow', Santana was determined to be ready for Brittany this time. Thankfully, her parents were again out for the day; after her mother's reaction to Brittany, Santana wasn't sure they were quite ready to deal with the blonde's demeanour quite yet.

This time, Santana was actually able to make herself presentable, given the extra time. After showering, she stared at herself in the mirror, wearing nothing but a towel. The brunette was still baffled that Brittany found her attractive; she just couldn't see it herself, and wondered if she should try to make herself any more presentable. She had tried wearing her hair up, but that had quickly been stopped after Quinn had grabbed her ponytail and told her to stop trying to look like a cheerleader. Ever since that threat, she hadn't so much as touched a hairband.

So maybe the glasses could go, she mused. She wasn't allergic to contacts, and one of the few features she had been complimented on were her eyes. But either way, that was hardly going to happen today. Instead, she headed back into her room and got dressed. Remembering Brittany's comment about red being her color, she made a point of hunting down whatever t-shirts she had that would work. Not exactly the sort of thing Brittany was probably referring to, but it was a start.

A short while later, she was sat in the living room, occasionally glancing to her phone to check on the time. Once again, Brittany had given her no idea of when she would be arriving, nor had she sent her any sort of message, and Santana was already growing restless. She was just about to turn the TV on, when she heard a noise from upstairs. It sounded like something falling over; as some of her models often did.

Not that she thought for a second that the sound had been caused by accident.

Santana hurried upstairs, pushing the door to her room open. The window was closed, but the curtains had definitely moved.

"You're standing behind the door, aren't you?" she asked, not even bothering to turn around.

"You're no fun," Brittany muttered, closing the door behind Santana, before stepping closer and wrapping her arms around the shorter girl's waist. "But you're still so hot." She placed a quick peck on Santana's ear, before resting her chin upon the brunette's shoulder. "Even hotter now you've got a bit of an attitude."

"I do _not_ have an attitude," Santana snapped. "How else am I supposed to react to someone breaking into my house? Again?"

"I dunno, you could try waiting on the bed naked or something?" the blonde suggested. Cheeks burning, Santana disentangled herself and turned around. But as soon as her eyes met Brittany's, her irritation dissipated and she managed a small smile.

"So what's your excuse for using the window this time?" she asked. "And where's your car? I didn't see it on the drive."

"Parked down the street," Brittany replied. "Didn't know if your parents were in. And I went past one of those friends of yours; the one with the lips."

"Sam?" Santana asked. Brittany just shrugged.

"I think so" she said. "Didn't wanna risk him seeing me, so I kept going for a bit. You didn't invite him over, did you?"

"No," the brunette replied quickly. "No, why would I? I knew you were coming."

"Good," Brittany said, smiling again. "That guy needs to keep his hands off my girl."

"Thanks again," Santana said, desperate to keep talking to distract from her still-red cheeks. "For the Quinn thing."

"Don't mention it," Brittany replied, moving past the other girl and flopping onto the bed. "Actually I'm surprised you didn't give me a lecture for dropping Jewfro in it."

"If it had been anyone else, maybe," the Latina said, looking away for a moment. "But him…I'd find it very hard to feel really sorry for him…"

"You wanna talk about it?" the blonde asked, sitting up a little straighter. "I don't really know much about…you know…what happened to you. If you don't mind, I guess."

"I don't mind," Santana replied with a shrug. "There isn't much to tell, really. It's not that exciting, really."

"I wouldn't expect it to be," Brittany said, and Santana was distinctly aware that the taller girl's tone had become a little more serious. She sat beside the other girl, and instantly felt an arm around her waist. She smiled a little.

"I think I've always known," she began. "That I liked girls, that is. When I was watching those cartoons, I tried to tell myself that I always preferred the female characters because they were the only girls – you'd be amazed just how many have just one 'token female'." She chuckled and shook her head, letting out a quiet sigh. "But eventually I realised the truth. I told my parents first; they weren't even that surprised, really. Abuela was mad. Hasn't spoken to me since, actually, but…I guess there isn't much I can really do about that…"

Brittany tightened her hold around Santana's waist, and without prompting the brunette rested her head against the taller girl's shoulder.

"Then about a month later, I finally decided to tell my friends," she continued. "Artie and Nicole were fine with it, but Sam…" She sighed again. "He's always had a bit of a thing for me, I guess. He didn't react badly, he just…" She closed her eyes and shifted against the other girl slightly. "I went to talk to him at the end of the day. Told him I was sorry – can you believe that? I actually apologised for being gay. But…even though everything was cool between us, what we didn't realise is that one of Quinn's Cheerio friends was just round the corner. Heard the whole thing."

"How quickly did everyone find out?" Brittany asked, her voice still sombre.

"Next day," Santana replied simply. "As soon as I walked in, I knew. When everyone ignores you all the time, you kinda notice when suddenly they're all staring at you."

"How bad was it?"

"Not as bad as it could have been," the Latina said. She forced a smile, before letting out a harsh laugh. "Worse than I would have liked." She sat up, but made sure Brittany could keep her arm where it was. "I wasn't even really bullied any more than I already was. The only difference was the insults they used. Quinn Fabray had a field day with it…"

"I bet she did," Brittany muttered, once again tightening her hold.

"It's fine," Santana said, smiling again. "I made it to our final year, I'm not depressed, and…" Her smile widened. "…something happened that I never expected."

"Huh," Brittany replied, feigning ignorance. "Anything in particular?"

Feeling particularly bold, Santana scooted closer and placed a gentle kiss upon the blonde's cheek. "Nope, can't think of anything."

"Well now I'm hurt," Brittany replied, and before Santana knew what was happening, she was flat on her back, with the taller girl looming above her, tangled hair hanging down around them. "You're gonna have to make it up to me, Specs."

"I'm open to suggestions," the brunette said, staring up at the other girl with a mixture of surprise and excitement.

"Someone's feisty today," the blonde purred, leaning down so they were nose to nose. "Finally coming out of your shell?"

"Well with you it's more like being dragged out of it," Santana replied, earning a chuckle from the other girl.

"Well, while we're on the subject of dragging you out of things…"

Santana's heart rate instantly skyrocketed. She was pretty sure this wasn't going where she thought it was, but the mere suggestion was enough to set her senses on fire. She looked up into those bright eyes, lips slightly parted as her breathing became something of a pant.

And just when had Brittany placed a knee between her thighs?

The brunette let out a shaky breath, unable to repress a shiver as it ran through her. Brittany just smiled mischievously, slowly closing her eyes. Knowing what was coming, Santana did the same, leaning up a little to meet the other girl's lips.

And then the doorbell rang.

"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding," Brittany spat, lifting her head and glaring at the open door of Santana's bedroom.

The brunette let out a groan, her head falling back onto the bed. "I'd better get that," she muttered, sliding out from under the other girl and heading for the door.

"Fucking clitblocker," Brittany muttered, sitting up and folding her arms.

"I'll be as quick as I can," Santana assured her, heading out of the room and down the stairs. There were no cars outside, and when she opened the front door she found herself face to face with Sam.

"Hi," he said, grinning. Santana returned the smile as best she could. "Sorry I didn't call. I was just passing by and needed to ask you something."

"Sure," the brunette replied, seeing no option but to step aside and let her friend in. She closed the door, and to her horror realised that Sam was already heading for the stairs. She contemplated telling him that she had been in the living room, but that would never fly; her laptop was in her bedroom – Sam knew full-well that she wouldn't be without it.

Fumbling to unlock it, Santana pulled her phone from her pocket and typed out a text message as fast as she could.

_**TO BRITTANY: Get under the bed NOW**_

She frantically looked up the stairs, almost afraid to follow. Sam paused and turned, looking down at her with a bemused expression.

"You coming?" he asked. Had the situation been different, she would have probably joked about being led to her own bedroom – but having said that, if the situation were different, she wouldn't be dreading it.

"Yeah," she replied, heading up to join him. Just as they reached the top of the stairs, her phone buzzed.

_**FROM BRITTANY: When was the last time you cleaned under here? Dirty girl ;)**_

Only partially relieved, Santana followed Sam into her room – where, thankfully, Brittany was out of sight. She inwardly cringed as her friend sat on the bed, while she opted for her desk chair.

"So what was it you wanted to ask?" she asked, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice casual. Sam shifted on the bed as he pulled something from his pocket, unfolding several printed pages. He passed them to Santana, who was only half paying attention as he spoke.

"There's a meteor shower tonight," he said. "We're gonna be able to see it from here. I was just passing by and I thought I'd ask if you wanted to come with."

"What about Artie and Nicole?" Santana asked, glancing over the information she had been handed. "They'd want to see this too."

"Can't make it," Sam replied with a shrug. "I…ah…already asked them."

Before Santana could respond, her phone vibrated again.

_**FROM BRITTANY: My perfect ass he was just passing by. He probably only walked so it wasn't completely obvious he meant to come here.**_

Santana looked up from the message briefly; Brittany was probably right. She quickly typed a response.

"Who're you texting?" Sam asked, still smiling. "Rachel still pestering you?"

"Yeah," Santana replied, her voice a little high-pitched. "Yeah, that's right."

_**TO BRITTANY: Don't you dare try anything. I can handle this.**_

But the moment she hit 'send', a silent fear shot through her; what if Brittany's phone made a noise? Sam was hardly going to ignore something ringing or buzzing directly beneath him. The seconds ticked by, and Santana looked back down to the paper in her hand; though it was more to avoid Sam's eyes than anything else. But to her relief, the moment passed, and there was nothing but silence.

"So what do you think?" Sam asked. "Pretty cool, huh? I was thinking we could maybe get some snacks and spend the night out there."

"That sounds…um…"

_**FROM BRITTANY: And there was me planning on inviting you over mine later. Clearly you're too busy with your boyfriend.**_

Santana sighed and quickly responded. In her current state, it was only a matter of time before Brittany rolled out from under there and broke Sam's nose.

_**TO BRITTANY: Well if you let me actually reply, you'd know that I can't do anything with Sam tonight – I'm visiting my girlfriend's house.**_

_**FROM BRITTANY: Damn right you are. Now get rid of this dweeb before I rip his balls off through his throat.**_

"Everything okay…?" Sam asked, a little awkwardly. Santana just forced a smile and nodded.

"It's fine," she replied. "You know how exhausting Rachel can be."

"The girl's crazy," Sam replied with a laugh. "I never got how you two ended up being friends."

_**FROM BRITTANY: I'll let you call me Rachel if you let me exhaust you.**_

"Oh, you know…" Santana trailed off, trying her hardest not to glare at the bed. "You'd be surprised how easily complete opposites can end up as friends."

"Yeah, I guess. I like to think there's always possibilities," Sam said, looking oddly wistful for a moment. "Anyway, what about tonight?"

"I…" Santana shook her head and sighed. "I can't tonight. I'm doing something with my parents tomorrow morning so I need the sleep." Instantly, his face fell. Santana felt awful for lying, but once again she found it hard to even consider turning Brittany's offer down. "I'm really sorry."

"No…no, it's fine," Sam replied, nodding slowly. He watched as Santana folded the meteor information and deposited it upon her desk. "I should have asked sooner."

"Next time," Santana said with a nod. "We'll find out earlier, and we can actually plan something. With the others, too."

"Yeah," her friend replied, looking less than convinced.

_**FROM BRITTANY: Next time, he's gonna be sat out there alone while my head is buried between your legs. Just an FYI.**_

"Hey, did you hear about Jacob Ben Israel?" Sam continued, less than subtly changing the subject. "Everyone thinks he slushied Quinn Fabray."

"He did," Santana replied slowly, a little concerned by the way Sam had phrased that. The blonde boy just shook his head.

"Everyone's saying that, but I heard it wasn't him," he whispered, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. "I heard someone else did it, and just dropped the cup right in his hand."

"Who, then?" Santana asked, already knowing the answer. She was more concerned that someone else had seen – not that it was so hard to believe, given how many people had been there.

"Brittany Pierce," Sam replied excitedly. "She just swooped past, got Fabray in the back, dumped the cup in Jacob's hand, and got away before barely anyone saw."

"Are you sure?" the brunette enquired, feigning ignorance. "That doesn't seem like Brittany's MO."

"Come on, her and Quinn hate each other," Sam said with a shrug. "Some of the guys I was talking to think someone paid her off to do it."

"Paid her off?" Santana repeated. "Who would do that?"

_**FROM BRITTANY: That's right. I take payment in hot lady lovins. Get this dork out of here and you can give me an advance.**_

"Well Quinn's slushied half the school," Sam pointed out. "And Brittany's the only person her jock friends won't touch, right?"

"I guess," Santana replied. She wasn't sure whether her friend was going somewhere with this, or just making conversation.

_**FROM BRITTANY: God I am so wet for you right now.**_

Santana let out a mixture between a cough and a yelp at that message, prompting a confused Sam to lean forward slightly.

"You okay?" he asked, smiling helpfully. Santana nodded, hold her throat for effect.

"Just need a drink," she lied. Sam nodded.

"Well anyway, some of them think Brittany will slushy anyone for the right price," he continued. "One guy thinks she's been sleeping with all the guys from the football team that Quinn's dumped, and they're out for revenge."

Santana immediately tensed, positive that Brittany was about to emerge from beneath the bed. But again, there was only silence.

At least for a moment.

_**FROM BRITTANY: If you don't get him out of here in the next five minutes, I'm gonna show him what revenge really is.**_

"Well either way, I'm not going to complain if someone has it out for Quinn," Santana replied, getting to her feet. "She's given us enough trouble."

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Sam said, nodding fervently. "We should get her to do something. I dunno if we pay her or something, but wouldn't it be great to get back at Quinn?"

"Brittany's a high school student, Sam," the Latina reminded him. "Not a member of the A-Team."

"I guess," he shrugged, standing up as well. "Well we'll work something out. Honestly, I think Artie just wants to talk to her. You know…properly. Not just her throwing an insult at him when he gets too close."

"I can't see it happening, myself," Santana replied, smirking at the mental image. "But stranger things have happened…"

"Yeah, they have…" Sam murmured, and something about his smile threw Santana off for a moment. "Well, I'd better get going then."

When Santana returned to her bedroom after seeing Sam off, it was to find a rather fed-up looking Brittany sat on the floor at the foot of her bed. The blonde was holding an oddly-posed Transformers toy, inspecting it with interest. As soon as she saw Santana, she looked up and gestured at the figure.

"This guy had his sword up my ass the entire time I was under there," she complained. "Next time you plan on doing that to me, at least make sure there's room."

"Well just be glad you didn't roll onto him," Santana replied, taking the toy from the other girl. "Otherwise he would have lit up and started making a load of noise."

"What, so your friend who thinks I'm a slut doesn't find out I'm here?" the blonde scoffed, getting to her feet and dusting her jacket down.

"Brittany, he doesn't think-"

"I heard him, Specs," Brittany cut in. "I know what he said." She let out a sigh and stretched. "Anyway, I think I'd quite like to carry on where we left off…"

"I thought you wanted me to see your house?" Santana pointed out, taking a step back and smiling in what she hoped was a teasing manner.

"Hmmm well I dunno," the blonde said, putting on an exaggerated frown. "You did take forever to get rid of that douchebag, but…" She smirked. "I can't say no to you."

"Didn't you say you used to enjoy stargazing too?" Santana asked, and for a moment something flickered behind Brittany's smile.

"I guess," she replied with a shrug. "Maybe I just wanna get you on your back in the middle of a field."

**~xxx~**

The drive to Brittany's house was an interesting experience. It was only really now hitting Santana that she had no idea where her own girlfriend lived. She had heard plenty of stories of course; some said Brittany's family were incredibly wealthy and powerful, others said they were very poor and lived in a rough area – hence Brittany's attitude. There was even one persistent rumor that Brittany had no family, and that she lived permanently in a motel room with a bunch of bikers. There was still time to ask, of course, but Santana had a feeling that Brittany would just give her a cryptic response and tell her to wait and see. Despite her curiosity going unfulfilled, Santana was rather pleased with herself that she was already picking up on Brittany's behaviour and quirks.

She turned away from the blonde, and watched as the houses drifted past the window. She had never been to this area of town before, but she knew they were definitely heading to one of the more affluent areas. Of course Brittany could have just been driving them right out of town altogether, so the mystery remained. After a while, the trees on either side of the road began to grow larger, while the houses became more spaced out. Soon, every house Santana saw was of a unique design, rather than the identical rows of her own street. Some of these houses were surrounded by walls, others by tall iron fences.

This was definitely the richest area for miles.

And eventually, they came to a road winding it's way up a gentle hill. The trees were still thick, providing absolute privacy.

"Brittany…" Santana murmured, unable to take her eyes away from the window. "Is this your driveway?"

"Yup," the blonde replied simply. "Pretty neat, right?"

"Yeah…" the shorter girl breathed, not quite able to believe it. "It's neat, alright…"

They drove a short distance further, and when they rounded a final corner, Santana was faced with one of the most magnificent buildings she had ever seen, let alone in person. The house was enormous; a person would be forgiven for calling it a mansion. But not only was the building's size impressive, but it's age was readily apparent. It almost looked like something from a horror movie; it fit all the haunted house tropes perfectly, with distinctly gothic styling here and there. Santana didn't even know there were any buildings this old in the area, let alone still in a liveable state. She was no expert, but Santana wouldn't have been surprised if it were over one hundred years old.

As they drew closer, it became difficult to see the building in it's entirety, and instead Santana turned her eyes to where they were going. Rather than heading for the large wooden front doors, they continued driving to the side of the house. Whatever it had originally been when the house was built, a small out-building now appeared to serve as a garage. As they drove into it, Santana had a few moments to glimpse the area behind the house, and saw something of a bizarre clash – an incredibly traditional looking garden, likely unchanged from the house's earlier days – but right in the middle of it was what appeared to be a modern swimming pool.

Before she could get a better look, the wall of the garage cut off her view. But the one it was replaced with was no less contradictory – the building was clearly as old as the house, and yet the ceiling played host to several strip lights, all of which had come on automatically as soon as the car had entered. Though despite her initial surprise, Santana reasoned that it made sense – Brittany clearly loved her car, so it would make sense for it's home to be rather well equipped.

Brittany killed the engine, and just sat for a moment, watching Santana take it all in. She turned to the blonde, knowing full-well that her smile must have looked rather dorky.

"I can't believe you live here…" she murmured, almost reverently.

"No, I live in the house," Brittany replied with a smirk. "Jessie lives in here."

Wait. What.

"…your car is called Jessie?" Santana asked after a moment. "Your car has a _name?_"

There was silence. Even shaded from the garage's lights by the car roof, the pink tinge on Brittany's cheeks was readily apparent.

"…if you so much as utter a single fucking word about this-"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Santana said quickly, holding her hands up. She knew Brittany's threat wasn't entirely serious, but her reaction was simply priceless.

"You better not," the blonde muttered, opening her door and getting out. Santana did the same, and waiting for Brittany to lock the car before following her out of the garage.

"Bye, Jessie!" she called, earning what could only be described as a death glare from the taller girl.

"The fuck has got into you?" she asked. "I think I preferred it when you were stammering over every word."

"I'm dating Brittany Pierce and just about to see her house," Santana said calmly. "I think I'm a little too far gone to be getting nervous now."

"Oh good," the blonde said, stopping for a moment and smiling. "So we can go fuck in the shrubbery, then?"

"…maybe later," Santana replied, her own smile fading somewhat as her cheeks reddened.

"It's going on the bucket list," Brittany shot back, winking as she reached out and took the Latina's hand, leading her back round to the front of the house.

"Don't you have a back door?" Santana asked. And instantly regretted it.

"Well well, Specs is into anal," the blonde commented with another flash of her toothy grin. "Who knew?"

"You know _exactly_ what I mean," Santana snapped, well aware that this was still revenge for laughing at the car.

"Well you want the full effect, right?" Brittany asked with a shrug. "Gotta use the front door for that."

And she certainly wasn't lying. After fumbling with the lock for a moment, Brittany pushed the large wooden doors open, and stepped aside to allow Santana past. She was dimly aware of Brittany closing them behind her, but almost all of her attention was focussed on the room before her. Or rather – the entrance hall. The building's interior definitely matched it's outward appearance, in both style and magnificence.

"This…" she began shakily, wondering briefly if the decorations in the chandelier were real diamonds. "…isn't what I expected at all."

"What, you thought I lived in a box or something?" Brittany chuckled, stepping past her. "Make yourself at home – I need to sort something out quickly."

And without another word, Brittany had disappeared up the impressive staircase that dominated the entrance hall, leaving Santana alone in what felt more like a castle than a house. She stood there for a moment, simply awed by everything around her, before finally deciding to actually have a look around. To her left, connected to the entrance hall by a wide arch with no door, was what she assumed to be a living room – though 'living area' might have been a better term, given it's open-plan nature. As seemed to be a running theme with the house, there was a strange mix of old and modern – at one end sat an incredibly old and ornate mantelpiece, but opposite it was a large flatscreen television.

Stepping a little further towards it, Santana returned her attention towards the mantelpiece. Atop it were several framed photographs, and without Brittany being present, she couldn't help but take a closer look. The middle picture – the largest – was a professionally taken photograph of three people; a man, a woman, a little girl who could be no older than five. Santana smiled slightly as she leant down for a closer look; that little girl had to be Brittany. It was bizarre seeing her looking so sweet and innocent, but given her age in the photo, that was entirely expected. But then, she noticed something odd. As Santana looked more closely at the photo, something very quickly became apparent to her.

That little girl wasn't Brittany.

She might as well have been, but for one tiny detail – the child's eyes were brown, not blue. Confusion filling her, Santana turned to the other pictures, and found those same brown eyes staring back at her. There were different combinations and poses, but always the same three people – a mother, a father, and their blonde, brown-eyed little girl. Suddenly feeling rather sick, Santana backed away from the photos, completely at a loss. She looked desperately around at the few other photos dotted here and there, but it was the same people looking out of them.

And suddenly, everything began to slot into place; the real reason no one knew where Brittany lived. At a brisk pace, she headed back into the entrance hall – just in time to see Brittany coming down the stairs towards her. The blonde was smiling, but it quickly faded when she saw the look upon the Latina's face. The taller girl frowned slightly.

"What's up?" she asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Brittany," Santana said, the firmness of her voice clearly surprising the blonde. "I need you to answer something. And you have to promise me…_promise me_ you're telling the truth."

"…okay?" Brittany was most definitely confused. Maybe she didn't realise Santana had seen the photos; maybe she didn't even know they were there. The brunette took a deep breath.

"Is this really your house?"

Instantly, Brittany's expression changed. She seemed to deflate somewhat, and Santana knew she had been right. She was about to respond, though with what, she never found out.

"Yes."

Santana blinked.

"Excuse me?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, this is my house," Brittany replied, a lot firmer this time. She glanced over to the living area, and sighed. "Come on."

Santana followed the taller girl over to the mantelpiece, picking up the first photo frame that Santana had inspected. "That's mom, dad…and Amy, my little sister."

"But…but I…" Santana stammered, looking from Brittany and back to the photograph.

"You wanna know why I'm not in any of the pictures, right?" she asked calmly. Santana nodded, suddenly unable to find her voice. Brittany gave a sad smile. "It's not that complicated." She placed the picture back on the mantelpiece. "I'm not in any of them because…I'm the only one that ever sees them." She turned back to Santana and shrugged. "Why would I want pictures of myself everywhere?"

"They're…they're not…um…" Santana trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air, but Brittany just shook her head.

"Dead?" she asked. "No. Actually, right now they're in Italy."

"Italy?" Santana repeated incredulously. "I don't understand."

"Come upstairs and I'll tell you the whole story," Brittany replied, turning on her heel and heading back towards the stairs. "It's about time you found out who you're dating."

**~xxx~**

While the rest of Brittany's house was definitely an elegant mix of classical and modern, the blonde's own bedroom was most definitely skewed towards the latter. It was a relatively large room, with a four-poster bed at one end, and a large TV even bigger than the one downstairs opposite it. Adorning the walls were posters of various bands, movies and models – all of whom, Santana noted, were female. The walls themselves were painted a dark grey color, but they were far from colorless thanks to an entire web of fairylights spread out across the ceiling and woven all around the bed's framework.

Brittany closed the door behind them, and motioned for Santana to sit on the bed. The sheets and pillows were made from some expensive-looking black material, soft as silk. The room's owner stood by the door, looking a little awkward. After a moment, she shrugged her jacket off, and tossed it onto a nearby chair. As she did so, Santana shrugged her bag from her shoulder and placed it against the nearest wall.

"So…I guess you have a lot of questions…" she began. "The parent thing isn't actually the main thing I wanted to tell you, so I'll get that out of the way right now." She moved a little further into the room, stopping near one of two tall windows overlooking the gardens. "Mom and Dad are basically always away on business. They're both really high-ranking board members of their company, and are always in some country or other. Helping the brand's global expansion or some shit." She shrugged, and leant an elbow against the window frame. "Amy's way too young to be left alone, so she goes with them. Along with her private tutor." She scoffed. "They tried me with one of those once. It sucked."

Santana listened intently; she had never seen Brittany looking so vulnerable before. She hated herself for it, but a tiny part of her couldn't help but feel smug – though perhaps 'honored' was a better word – that Brittany felt comfortable sharing this with her.

"And so I stay here," Brittany continued. "They wanted me to come with, but…that life really isn't for me. So they left me the house to myself. Just like that."

"Wait, so….you live here all by yourself?" Santana asked, her mouth hanging open. "How long have you been on your own?"

"Oh I dunno," the blonde replied with a shrug. "They left just after I came to McKinley."

In that instant, Santana wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around her girlfriend.

"Brittany…" she whispered, unable to raise her voice any higher. "That was more than a year ago…"

"Yeah…" the taller girl replied, turning back to the window. "And before you ask, yeah it's technically illegal, so...you know…don't tell anyone."

"But…I…what about bills? Taxes? How has the government not realised you're on your own?" Santana asked, more and more questions forming in her head as she went.

"My parents let me live alone," Brittany replied flatly. "They didn't abandon me. And when I need to, I can forge dad's signature. It isn't really a big deal."

"But it is," the Latina insisted. "Brittany, you've been alone all this time, I…why didn't you _tell someone?_"

"I'm telling you right now," the blonde replied, glancing over her shoulder and meeting Santana's gaze. "You're the first person I've ever trusted enough…"

"I don't believe that for a second," Santana replied sharply. "Even if I get over the fact that you actually want to date me, you can't tell me that you never thought to tell your other friends? What about Noah Puckerman? He was at your old school, wasn't he?"

Brittany was silent for a moment, gazing out over the garden for a few moments, before bowing her head and allowing her eyes to close.

"Yeah, he was," she murmured. "He knows me far too well already."

"…Brittany?" Santana asked, wishing more and more that the blonde would just come over and sit with her; she was looking more agitated by the second.

"Not a single person in Lima has ever heard what I'm about to tell you, Santana," Brittany began, letting out another sigh. "I'm amazed no one's found out, but…why would they even look…?" She sighed again, and stood a little straighter. "At my old school, there was…ah…a girl. Everyone was afraid of her; scared to cross her path."

Well, Santana didn't need telling who _that_ was.

"Everyone wanted to either be her or be with her," Brittany continued. "She even put a few people in the hospital. This all sounding familiar?"

Santana nodded wordlessly.

"Well, she thought she had everything; no one could touch her," the taller girl went on. "Then one day, this new girl turns up. Typical ditzy blonde; got a spot on the cheerleading team, had a load of friends within a week. She was a real airhead, you know? She was always drawing little rainbows on stuff; all that magical fairy princess shit. She was a complete weirdo, but not enough to really bother anyone, I guess. Then one day, she's wearing a new pair of sneakers – stupid bright pink things with lights in them. The sorta things a three year-old wouldn't be seen dead in. Anyway, the laces come undone, and she trips right into the school's resident badass. Now she's not too happy about it, so she pushes the cheerleader away. Tells her to mind her own goddamn business, like the stupid bitch should have done in the first place."

"So there were a few more accidents like that, until eventually, she gets so pissed off with this cheerleader that she decides to do a little digging – find out what's really going on in that head full of ponies and talking frogs and magic farts. And eventually she strikes gold – little miss airhead likes girls. Kept the whole thing secret, but I guess it explained the rainbows everywhere. And after the cheerleader trips over those fucking shoes one more time, she snaps – she tells everyone in the whole school that rainbow-girl is a fucking dyke."

"And that was it for her – her friends didn't want to know her, she was kicked off the cheerleading team, and eventually…people just stopped hearing from her."

Santana sat in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

"Brittany…" she croaked, her voice coming out rather hoarse. "You…oh my god, you…you _outed someone?_ To the whole school? How could….how could you…I…"

"Santana, please…" Brittany murmured; she too sounded close to tears, but Santana didn't care. The Latina shot to her feet.

"I can't believe you could do that to someone," she said, literally shaking with anger as she glared at the back of the blonde's head. "And after that, did she…she killed herself, didn't she? That cheerleader killed herself and that's why you left your old school? That's what you really mean, isn't it?"

"Please, Santana, don't-"

"Don't what?" Santana spat, her fists clenched. "Remind you of what a massive hypocrite you are? How the hell could you even think about doing any of the things you've done with me? Is that why you really hated her? Because you knew you like girls too? _What was it, Brittany?_"

"Santana-"

"Actually, you know what? Save it. I don't even want to know what's going on in that head of yours," the Latina continued, jabbing a finger in the blonde's direction. "You really are just as bad as everyone thinks, aren't you? They all think you're scary because you can beat them up, but just how much worse would it be if they actually knew?"

And with that, Santana turned to leave. But she hadn't even made contact with the door handle before she noticed Brittany had turned around. She chanced a look up at the blonde, and saw just what a state she was in; her eyes were red and swollen; cheeks shining with tears.

"Wait, please…I…" she sobbed, stepping closer. "Don't…you don't…"

"Don't what?" Santana barked, reaching for the door handle again.

"You don't understand, I…" Brittany let out another sob, and bowed her head, hair hiding her face from view.

"Don't understand what?" the brunette asked, not even sure why she was still bothering.

Brittany took a deep breath that rattled in her throat, before straightening up and swallowing uncomfortably. She stared at Santana through pained eyes; pleading eyes.

"I was the cheerleader."


	9. Leave Them On

**Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.**

**Soooo...I heard a few of you wanted an update?  
**

**~xxx~**

The room was consumed by silence. The moment seemed to drag on forever; for an eternity. Santana couldn't even think straight, all perception of time pulled from her grasp. Had it been hours? Months? Or merely seconds? She blinked, staring into Brittany's eyes. She had never seen the blonde cry; didn't even think she was capable of it. Making others cry? Sure. But Santana hadn't even contemplated someone being able to hurt Brittany's feelings, let alone make her react like this.

The brunette swallowed uncomfortably, lost for words. She knew Brittany was waiting for a reaction, and finally found her voice.

"You…what?" she managed, unable to produce more than that. Brittany almost jumped when Santana spoke, looking thoroughly shaken. Despite the moisture around them, her eyes had lost their usual sparkle. She looked utterly lost.

"I…I was a cheerleader at my old school," she said, voice scratchy and quiet. "When that girl found out about me, I…I felt like everyone was out to get me, you know?" She paused for a moment, glancing away before meeting Santana's gaze again, fresh tears forming. "All my friends ditched me. The girls were scared of me. The guys…" She let out a harsh laugh, shaking her head slightly. "Well, as soon as they realised I wasn't something they could put their dick in, they didn't wanna know."

"Even Puck?" Santana asked, but Brittany just shook her head again.

"Puck had already left," the blonde replied. "He was probably fucking Fabray when I tried to call him that night." She laughed again, but sounded far from amused. "And I called him a _lot_ that night…"

"So what happened afterwards?" the Latina asked, furrowing her brow. "You couldn't have just left right away, could you?"

"I tried to stick it out for a while," Brittany replied, shrugging. "But…well, you know what people are like." Santana nodded. "I wasn't exactly the same person I am now, as if that wasn't obvious. I didn't know the first thing about defending myself. I mean, I was pretty fit, being on the cheerleading squad and all, but I wasn't in any shape to start a fight." She let out a sigh, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Not that I'd ever wanted to before then…"

"Is that how you ended up…well…" Santana trailed off, gesturing up and down Brittany's body. Despite the tears still running down her reddened cheeks, the blonde cracked a small smile.

"Built like an ox on steroids?" she asked. "Yeah. I thought maybe I could deal with the name-calling, but…a week after I was outed, some guy made a pass at me. I was on my way home, it was dark, and this guy comes up behind me – said he was going to 'cure' me. Some old lady driving past scared him off, but I…" The blonde paused again, looking as though she were struggling for words. "…I had never been so scared in my life. But then I had an idea – the bitch that outed me in the first place, no one dared touch her; they were all too scared of her. So I made a promise to myself right then and there that I would make myself as strong as her."

"So you became the thing you hated most," Santana mused, pondering Brittany's words. "She bullied a sweet, innocent girl until she had no choice but to copy her to fight back."

"Something like that," the blonde replied with another shrug. "It's not an act, you know. Sometimes I wish I could make it all go away; the outing, the bullying, the months of training and boxing lessons with a slightly creepy instructor, but…" She sighed. "…what you see is the real me. The Brittany S Pierce who ran for Senior Class President with a campaign of Pixie Stick promises and anti-tornado legislation is dead and buried."

"You ran for Senior Class President?" Santana asked. "But you're…oh, right."

"Yeah, I wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed," the blonde admitted. "I lied about my age at McKinley so I could have two years instead of going straight to senior year and fucking things up."

"…and the…ah…Pixie Sticks?" Santana repeated, unable to hide her smirk. Brittany just grimaced.

"Shut up."

There was another moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of Brittany wiping at her nose. Santana regarded the other girl for a moment, processing everything she had discovered. Was Brittany really telling the truth? Was a person even capable of such a radical personality shift in the space of a year? When Brittany had first arrived at McKinley, she had brought a rather scary reputation with her – had that been a fabrication? Was it only after her arrival that she had begun behaving this way? Santana knew she had to get the specifics on this, but another question had appeared that was suddenly begging to be asked.

"How do you do it?"

Brittany frowned, cocking her head to one side. "Excuse me?"

"How do you act the way you do?" Santana elaborated, keeping her voice as calm as possible. "You call people names, threaten them – you even put two guys in the hospital. And yet despite all that, you have the…the _impudence_ to complain that you were bullied?"

"I don't bully people," Brittany snapped, suddenly defensive. "I never have." She took a step towards Santana, suddenly looking a lot more like her usual intimidating self. "Or are you trying to tell me Quinn Fabray doesn't deserve what she gets?" Santana remained silent, while Brittany took another step forwards. "No, that's not what this is about, is it? After what they've put you through, I know you couldn't give two shits what I do to them. What is it, Santana?"

The brunette couldn't read the other girl's eyes; hurt, anger, sorrow – it was all bubbling right there under the surface, plain as day. She knew there was no getting out of this, and as she took a deep breath, Santana averted her eyes, unable to hold the blonde's gaze.

"You know how I feel…" she said, her voice not much more than a whisper. She didn't see Brittany's reaction, so just kept going. "Every day, I'm picked on. They call me names, push me in into lockers, slushy me at least three times a week…" She looked up again, realising for the first time that Brittany was no longer than only one with tears running down her face. "This whole time you've known what I'm going through; known how much it hurts, and yet you did _nothing?_"

"I…don't underst-"

"Of course you do!" Santana interrupted, anger flaring. "That's the whole point! You were bullied just as bad as me – maybe worse – and despite claiming to have liked me ever since you first saw me, you were okay with just sitting back and watching?"

"And this has only just started bothering you?" Brittany asked, but Santana just rolled her eyes.

"Er…_yes?_ Before, I just assumed you'd always been like this. It never mattered to me because I was so sure you wouldn't understand…" She trailed off, choking back a sob and wiping at her eyes. "But you _do_. You've always known what I was going through, and I…god, I thought I lo- …no, forget it."

"Santana, please-"

"Please what?" Santana scoffed. "Forgive you? How the hell do you expect me to just forget this? What, you wanted to date me, but not enough to actually step in and maybe…oh, I dunno…stop me from feeling like crap every day? Feeling the exact same way you did? What were you so afraid of?!" Brittany flinched, and in that instant, Santana knew she was right. She took a step back, part of her almost wanting to smile triumphantly. "That's it, isn't it?" she asked. "You were afraid." Brittany remained silent, her expression completely unreadable. "You were so afraid of going through everything again that you kept your distance. I'm right, aren't I?"

"…can you blame me?" Brittany asked quietly. "Look at me, Santana. A few months of it and I went from a ditzy cheerleader to this."

"Three years, Brittany," Santana spat. "I've had this for three years. You could have stopped it – you know you could have! You didn't have to tell anyone we were together, you could have just got them to back off or something."

"Why does this matter so much now?" the blonde pleaded, looking a lot smaller now.

"I _told you!_" Santana shouted, voice rising. "I thought you had no idea what it was like. But now I know you do, and I…I can't do this, Brittany."

And with that, she ran.

She didn't even linger long enough to see the other girl's reaction, instead turning on her heel and heading straight for the stairs. She slammed the large front door behind her, taking off down the road leading away from the house. She didn't care that she was on foot, or that it was cold, or that she had left her bag in Brittany's room; she just needed to get away.

**~xxx~**

By the time the echoing sound of the front door slamming had ceased, Brittany had made her way over to her bed and slumped back onto it, staring up at the fairylights tangled throughout the four-poster. She had always known it would come to this. _Something_ was going to alienate Santana. The blonde had often wrestled with herself over how to approach the other girl, and the longer she left it, the stronger her fears became – clearly they had not been unfounded. She had no defence against Santana's words; nothing to justify her behaviour. Despite her physical strength, she was just as weak inside as she had been before. And she hated it.

Groaning, she reached over the side of the bed for her bag, pulling her phone out before rolling back onto the bed. She quickly scrolled through her contacts until she reached Puck's name.

And he never picked up.

"Probably fucking around with Fabray again," Brittany muttered, casually tossing her phone across the room before letting her head fall back onto the pillow. But then something occurred to her – she didn't hear her phone hitting the floor. Sitting up, the blonde found that the device had been saved by Santana's bag, still sat by the wall. She slid off the bed and grabbed the bag, placing it on her desk and looking at it for a moment. Her malicious side wanted to open it; to get back at Santana in some small way. But she knew it wasn't worth it, and instead slipped her phone into her pocket before returning to her bed, completely unsure of what to do.

**~xxx~**

It took Santana nearly an hour to get home, but knowing that Brittany would realise that made her feel slightly better. She knew she had been hard on Brittany; it had taken a lot of courage to reveal what had happened to her, even if Santana had cut her off before she could go into much detail. But she was still livid that Brittany had just sat back and watched her get bullied. Part of her knew it was wrong to just expect the blonde to help her; to put her own reputation on the line like that. But if Brittany really did care for her that much, surely it wasn't too much to ask? How could she sit there and let Santana go through the exact same hell she herself had experienced, and just been fine with it?

Her parents were still out when she returned, so Santana only felt slightly guilty when she slammed her bedroom door behind her. But no sooner had she entered her room, than she felt even worse. Just looking at her bed filled her with memories of how Brittany had pinned her to it earlier that day, made all the worse by the fact that half of her wanted nothing more than to run back to the blonde so she might end up in that position again. Reasoning that a distraction was necessary – and possibly desiring to get back at a certain girl – she decided to take Sam up on his earlier offer. After all, if she just sat there, she was going to go crazy - and with her homework finished, she had nothing to bury herself in.

She quickly made it to the phone in the kitchen, dialling Sam's number and waiting. Was it unfair on Sam himself? Probably. But right now she needed to get away from anything that could possibly remind her of Brittany.

"Hello?" Sam's voice answered, sounding a little breathless.

"Hey," she replied, already feeling guilty at how excited he was going to be.

"Oh, hi!"

Excited was clearly and understatement.

"I was just wondering, is it too late to take you up on that stargazing offer?" she asked, closing her eyes as that annoying little voice in her head reminded her that Brittany had hinted at once being into the same activity.

"No, no not at all," Sam replied, sounding nothing less than thrilled. "Did your parents cancel, or…?"

"Oh, um…" It took Santana a few seconds to remember the lie she had told. "No, they just said we weren't leaving as early as I thought, so it's okay if I'm out late."

"Awesome," Sam said. "Well, I can be over in a few minutes. Let me just get some snacks and stuff together."

"Sounds great," Santana replied, hoping she didn't come across as too false. She wasn't being completely untruthful – she _was_ excited to see the meteor shower, after all. But her conscience was already questioning her motives.

After they had said their goodbyes, Santana went to grab her phone so she could text her parents, almost making it to the stairs before she remembered where she had left it. Groaning to herself, she grabbed a pen and scrawled out a quick note explaining where she was going to be, before sticking it to the fridge. While waiting for Sam, she fixed her appearance as best she could, only realising for the first time just how dishevelled she was looking; hair messed up and eyes still framed with red.

By the time Sam arrived, Santana at least looked presentable. She smiled and greeted him warmly as they walked to his car, but already she couldn't help but feel as though she was making a mistake. She'd left Brittany in a pretty sensitive state; she - Santana Lopez, resident nerd and the easiest target of jocks and Cheerios alike - had made Brittany Pierce _cry_. And then just left her there. As she settled into her seat, she began hoping that this was all a bad dream. She was still mad at Brittany, sure, but her familiarity with the blonde had seemingly made her forget just who she was dealing with. Would Brittany seek revenge? Were they still even together? Just what was going to happen when Monday morning came?

"You okay?" Sam asked, glancing to his right. Santana just nodded, not trusting her ability to speak right now.

**~xxx~**

"I'm sorry, Brittany," Mrs Lopez said. "She never said when she would be back. I tried calling her to ask if she'd be home for dinner, but she's not answering her phone. I thought she was with you."

"She left her phone here," Brittany replied with a sigh, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "I was…uh…gonna drop by and give it back."

"Well, when she gets in, I'll tell her you called," Maribel said. "I have no idea what time that meteor thing is happening, so…"

"No, it's okay," Brittany replied quickly, already reaching for Santana's bag. "Thanks, Mrs Lopez."

"You're very welcome, Brittany," Santana's mother replied politely. "Nice to speak to you again."

As soon as she heard Mrs Lopez put the phone down, Brittany immediately dropped her own and turned Santana's bag upside down. The brunette's phone, a couple of schoolbooks, several loose pens and pencils, and finally, several sheets of folded paper – exactly what Brittany was looking for. She had seen Santana tuck Sam's meteor 'information sheet' into her bag before leaving, and already had something of an idea forming. If she could come out in front of someone else, even if it was just one of Santana's friends, then maybe the other girl would see just how much their relationship meant to her.

It was easy for Brittany to tell Santana she had wanted to be with her since first setting eyes on her, but she has a strong suspicion that Santana didn't fully appreciate the truth of that. Something about the shy girl had caught her attention from day one; it was so strong that at first, Brittany had wondered if there was something wrong with her. And after so long waiting and so long planning, like hell she was going to let her past mistakes screw this up.

She unfolded the sheet of paper and scanned through it. Most of it was just scientific information on the meteors; only just within Brittany's understanding. But as she turned to the second page, she found what she had been looking for: Sam had calculated – or at least pretended to – the best location to view the shower from. Brittany knew it was just a ruse to get Santana alone, though as angry as that made her, she wasn't worried for the other girl's safety – she knew Sam wouldn't force himself on her. Still, the idea of him alone with Santana made her blood boil. She quickly looked for familiar street names on the map for a rough idea of where the field was, before grabbing her phone again.

"Hey, it's me," she said quickly. "I'm calling in the favour you owe me."

"What do you want, Pierce?" the voice replied irritably. "I'm busy."

"Oh fuck off, CeeCee," Brittany scoffed. "All you do is sit at home crying over TV characters."

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" Brittany just rolled her eyes.

"Tell me your real name and I won't have to," the blonde replied. "Look, I'm really sorry I broke your nose…and your arm…but I need your help with something."

"Make it quick, then."

"Do you know anyone who lives out by Victoria Crescent?" Brittany asked, glancing at the map again. "Near that old cornfield?"

"Yeah, my friend Naomi lives there," the voice replied, sounding highly confused. "What's this all about, Pierce?"

"Nevermind," Brittany replied quickly. "Just give me her number."

"What, so you can do one over on her too?"

"Look, it's important," the blonde insisted. "I promise I won't hurt her, I just need to ask her some stuff. Please…"

"…did you just say 'please'?"

"Uhh…yeah, guess I did," Brittany replied with a shrug. There was a laugh from the other end of the phone.

"Wow, must be serious," the voice said. "Alright, Pierce, I'll play ball. But you better not be screwing around with me here."

As soon as Brittany had written the number down, and said her goodbyes, she hit dial once more, tapping her foot impatiently. After a few seconds, a new voice greeted her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, is that Naomi?" Brittany asked. There was silence for a moment; clearly she had caught the girl off-guard.

"Um…yeah?" she replied. "Is that…is that Brittany Pierce?"

"Yeah, it's me," the blonde replied, a little taken aback that her voice was so distinctive. "I need to ask you a favour."

"Oh, sure!" the voice said, sounding worryingly enthusiastic. "I don't know how much help I can be, but I'll do whatever I can. I mean…uh…if it's nothing too extreme, uh…"

"Look out your window."

There was another pause.

"What, are you in my yard or something?" she asked, and Brittany just rolled her eyes.

"No, of course not," the blonde said. "There's a field behind your house, right?"

"That's right," the girl replied cheerfully. "I always used to play out there when-"

"That's real nice, but I don't have time," Brittany interrupted. "I need you to tell me if can see anyone out there?"

"But it's already dark," she protested. Again, Brittany found herself pulling an exasperated expression.

"Just look, will you?" she said flatly. "They probably have torches."

"Hmmm, okay," the girl answered. She was gone for a few moments, before Brittany heard her picking the phone up again.

"Hey, there are people out there, just like you said," she explained. "Two, I think. Are they friends of yours?"

"Uhh…kinda," Brittany replied. "Thanks, Naomi."

"Don't mention it!" she said brightly. "It was really nice to actually speak to you. You always seem so cross at school."

"Yeah, I guess I do," Brittany said, managing a small laugh. "You're on the cheerleading team, right?"

"Yes, but I don't have anything to do with Quinn Fabray, if that's what you're asking," she insisted. "She's horrible!"

"That she is…" Brittany mused. She thought she recognised the girl's voice and name. "Hey, um…you know that tall girl you like? On the soccer team?"

"…...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, stop lying and listen," Brittany scoffed. "Newsflash: she likes you too. You should get up on that before someone else does."

"Uhhh…thanks? I think…?" Naomi replied slowly, sounding utterly bemused. "Hey, some more of your friends are there."

"…what?" Brittany asked, her smile gradually disappearing.

"Yeah, there's another car heading down to the field," she said. "Big red one with those spinning wheel things."

"Naomi, are you absolutely sure?" Brittany asked, already getting to her feet.

"Definitely," she replied. "Are they having a party down there?"

"Shit, I've gotta go."

Brittany threw her phone down before Naomi even had a chance to respond, grabbing her jacket and car keys before tearing down the stairs.

Santana was in danger.

**~xxx~**

Santana leant back against Sam's jacket, folded behind her head. It was the perfect night for stargazing; not a cloud in the sky, and it was actually warmer than it had been during the day; bizarre given how late in the year it was. As she continued to stare up into the sky, she heard Sam laying down nearby. They had left his car some distance away, not wanting to clog it's already wheezing engine with debris from the long grass.

"I got you a drink," Sam said, holding out a bottle of soda. Santana took it with a smile.

"Thanks," she murmured, gazing back up to the stars. Looking up into the night, she couldn't help but feel incredibly small. Maybe it was down to how much she knew about space; that in reality, people really are tiny and insignificant. It certainly made her regret her behaviour earlier that day. If she had questioned her actions to Brittany upon returning home, she was downright regretting them by now. She had jeopardised the one good thing that had happened to her since meeting her friends all those years ago, and she already knew that if she had ruined any chance of a relationship with Brittany, she would never forgive herself.

Vowing to apologise as soon as she returned home, she unscrewed the bottle top and took a long swig of the fizzy drink. It wasn't until Sam coughed quietly that she even remembered he was there, turning to face him.

"You okay?" he asked. "You've got that distracted face again."

"You guys always think I'm distracted," Santana replied, looking back up to the stars. "You've been saying that for the past month or so."

"Well it's true," Sam said with a shrug. "You've skipped half our after-school clubs, you're suddenly busy at the weekends, and you keep acting like there's something none of us know."

"…is it really that obvious?" Santana mused before she could stop herself. "Uh, I mean…oh crap…"

"Is what that obvious?" Sam asked, sitting up and suddenly looking nervous. "You mean…you mean there is something?"

"Damn," Santana muttered, before copying her friend and sitting forward. "Sam, I…I never meant…oh dear, I'm not very good at this, uh…"

Well that was a bad choice of words. Suddenly Sam was looking rather hopeful.

"Sam, look, I…" Santana stammered, her composure slipping. "…promise you won't be mad?"

"Santana, we've been friends for years," Sam said, smiling confidently. "It's cool. You know you can tell me anything."

'_You won't be saying that in a minute_,' a voice in Santana's head scoffed. The brunette gave an uneasy smile.

"You've always been a great friend, Sam," she said quietly. "But I don't think even you are going to be okay with this."

"Oh come on, what's that supposed to mean?" the blonde boy asked, clearly trying to maintain his smile.

"Sam, I…ah…" She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. "For the past few weeks, I've-"

"Wait," he cut in, suddenly glancing around. "Did you hear that?" Santana remained motionless for a second, but all she could hear was the wind and rustling of the grass. Sam seemed to be looking off in another direction, rising up onto his knees. "Maybe it was just the wind."

Santana was about to agree, until she heard something herself. It was quiet, but she knew it was naïve to pretend otherwise – it was definitely the sound of a footstep. "I heard it too," she said in a hushed whisper. "There's someone there."

"What do you mean 'someone'?" Sam asked, suddenly sounding incredibly out of his depth. His once cocky expression was replaced with one of dread, all colour gone from his skin. "It's…it's probably just someone walking their dog, right?"

"Do…do you want to head back to the car?" Santana suggested. "Just in case?"

"Yeah, good idea," Sam said quickly, scrambling to his feet and heading in the direction of his car, pausing only to make sure Santana was behind him. As she followed, she wondered just what on Earth had convinced her that sitting in the middle of an empty field in the middle of the night was a good idea. She stumbled through the long grass, trying her best to keep up with Sam's brisk pace. She almost fell as her shoe caught on a hidden dip in the ground, but managed to keep upright as they continued. She couldn't quite tell how worried Sam was, but if the fact that he had left everything behind was any indication, he was just as freaked out as she was.

And while it was adequate for telling the difference between food wrappers, the light from Sam's phone was hardly much of a torch. Surrounding by a wall of darkness, Santana felt an overwhelming sense of relief when Sam's car came into view. She made a beeline for the passenger door, waiting for her friend to unlock it. But he never did.

"Oh my god," Sam breathed. Santana looked up, unable to ignore the fear in his voice.

"What is it?" she asked, mentally pleading that this was some elaborate prank on the part of her friend.

"The tires have been slashed."

Santana's blood ran cold.

They stood there, looking at each other over the roof of the now useless vehicle. Sam looked so lost, it was a wonder he hadn't fainted. Santana wracked her brain, trying to remain rational and ignore the feeling of dread creeping through her. They were totally alone, with no means of transport, and it was highly likely that someone was watching them from the dark; someone who was intentionally keeping them there. The brunette had seen enough horror movies to know how these things went down, though moments later she found herself unable to believe she had even thought that – this was real life. She looked up at Sam again, who didn't seem to have taken his eyes off of her.

"We need to get out of here," she said. "Right now."

"But how, we can't-"

Whatever Sam was going to say, Santana never found out. There was silence; even the wind seemed to have died down. But that wasn't what had made Sam stop talking. It took her a moment to realise, in fact. As she looked at Sam, everything became clear.

She was casting a shadow on him.

Slowly, she turned on the spot, squinting at the blinding lights pointed in their direction. She couldn't even tell what they were coming from, and raised a hand to shield her eyes. The moment seemed to drag on forever, until the silence was shattered by the roar of an engine. Santana stood rooted to the spot, quite literally as a deer in the headlights would, unable to move or even think about doing so. The car was getting closer, bearing down on her, mowing down the grass and crops in it's path, picking up speed and only moving faster. Santana closed her eyes, paralysed with fear and unable to even contemplate moving as the thunderous machine barrelled towards her.

But the impact never came.

Santana's ears were filled with the sound of tires squealing, punctuated by a deafening crash of metal on metal, so close she could feel it against her face like a sudden gust of wind. She opened her eyes, but had little time to even see the car that had been about to hit her, for now an entirely different one was right in front of her.

"Get in!" Brittany shouted, kicking the passenger door open. Santana barely had time to register that the rear wing of the blonde's car was dented and scratched before she found herself on autopilot, diving into the seat. She looked back to Sam's car, seeing her friend still visible on the other side of it.

"Sam!" she called. "Sam, come on!"

He finally looked at her, his mouth agape, before finally coming to his senses and skirting around his own car, clambering into Brittany's just as Santana pulled her seat forward, allowing him to slide into the back. The blonde didn't even wait for the door to close before gunning the engine and skidding the car around. Just as they straightened out, Santana saw headlights in the mirrors, and realised that this was far from over; the other car was still running and still behind them.

Brittany floored it, forcing Santana – and Sam, judging by the yelp he let out – back into their seats. It wasn't until now that Santana fully appreciated just how much power Brittany's engine modifications had added. She finally glanced over to the blonde, watching as she turned them out of the field and back onto the road. There was fire in the other girl's eyes; her arms were tensed and her jaw set. This was the Brittany Pierce that McKinley High was in awe of.

"I told you not to come here!" Brittany snapped, not taking her eyes off the road. Santana just scoffed.

"No you didn't!" she found herself replying hotly.

"Well I was going to!" the blonde shot back, sending the car skidding round a corner. "I _knew _something like this was going to happen!"

"Oh really? How'd you figure that one out?" Santana snapped. "What the hell is going on?!"

"The bastard that owes me a new body panel is one of Fabray's cronies from the football team," Brittany said through gritted teeth. "She probably sent him here to scare you."

"How did she even know I was going to be here?" the brunette asked, and Brittany actually smiled.

"Because some guppy-lipped idiot posted a Facebook status saying he was spending the night with Santana Lopez," she explained, nodding towards the back seat. "For future reference, fishface-" They skidded round another bend, briefly traveling on two wheels as the car lifted from the road. "-she's fucking _taken_."

"Oh, am I now?" Santana said, not even waiting for Sam to respond. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do, actually," Brittany snapped. "Come on, Specs, I just saved your ass, I think I've earned it."

"Really, well how do you-" But Santana found herself cut off when she took a glance through the windscreen. "Oh my god, what are you doing?!"

"Shortcut," Brittany replied simply, not even batting an eyelid. Santana, on the other hand, slammed her hands into the glovebox to brace herself. Seconds later, the car was crashing through an old storey-high window, sending glass flying in all directions. When Santana looked up, she registered two things: one, they were now inside what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, and two, Sam was screaming.

Santana turned in her seat, mostly ignoring Sam's wailing and focussing on the fact that the other car was still right behind them. It wasn't really until now that it hit her – she was in the middle of a car chase. This wasn't a scene from a movie, or some theme park ride – this was actually happening. But she didn't know what shocked her more; the situation she was in, or that she had never found Brittany more attractive than when they had been shouting at each other as she drove. She turned forwards again, bracing herself with an elbow as the car slammed through an old gate and out into the open, knocking half of it clean off it's hinges and sending it crashing into the pursuing car.

"Do you even know where we're going?" Santana asked, and to her mixed horror and amused, Brittany just shrugged.

"I'm just having fun until the other guy gets bored," she replied matter-of-factly. "Why, you have a date or something?"

"Oh shut up," Santana snapped, folding her arms. "You said it yourself, I'm taken."

Brittany just grinned.

They emerged into a wide area, surrounded by tall derelict buildings. Santana recognised it as the old industrial district, but all that told her was that they were still on the outskirts of town. Sam was still whimpering in the back seat, but Santana felt oddly calm; or at the very least, she wasn't panicking. Brittany span the car around another corner, slamming the rear of it into a stack of crates, sending splintered wood into the air.

"We should probably think about losing this guy," Brittany said, pulling an overly-exaggerated thoughtful expression. "You know, seeing as it's probably past your bedtime and all."

"What the hell is he even doing?" Santana asked, glancing through the rear window again. "What's he gonna do if he catches up to us?"

"You think he even knows?" the blonde replied with another shrug. "Dog chasing cars, right? Isn't that from one of your movies?"

"If you're talking about The Dark Knight, I didn't actually like it that much and why the hell am I even discussing movies when I'm in the middle of a fucking car chase?!"

Brittany just looked at her for a moment, quirking an eyebrow. "…well, someone's in a bad mood."

"Can't possibly imagine why," Santana muttered, grimacing as they flew over a bump in the road. Brittany just laughed. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I didn't say that," Brittany replied quickly, but her continued smirk gave her away.

Their route led them into a long alleyway between two of the larger industrial buildings, littered with boxes and crates; none of which Brittany had any qualms about smashing her way through. Santana was almost becoming used to the sound of wood and metal flying over the car's hood, but one sound she didn't expect was a phone ringing. She frowned, glancing over at Brittany. The blonde nodded to the back seat where her bag was sat.

"It's mine," she said. "Can you get that?" Santana did as instructed, guessing correctly that Sam was in no fit state to do it himself, and quickly passed the phone to the other girl. "Hello?" Moments later, Brittany's eyes lit up. "Oh, hey, Mrs Lopez! Oh no, it's fine, Santana's with me. Yeah, she's okay. No, she's helping me with some homework. …you can, huh? Oh, it's just a movie. Yeah, she said I was doing so well we could have a break. Haha, yeah her movies do have way too many loud noises in them."

As Brittany spoke, Santana just sat there aghast. Since when did her mother have Brittany's cell phone number? Since when did her mother have _any_ of Brittany's numbers?

"Oh, sure, hold on." Brittany held the phone out for Santana. "Your mommy wants to speak to you."

Santana swiped the phone from the blonde's hand, but not before shooting her a glare. "Hi mom," she said, trying her hardest to sound calm.

"Hello, mija," her mother's voice replied. "We were starting to worry. Why isn't your phone on?"

"It isn't?" Santana asked, looking up at Brittany.

'_I turned it off_,' the blonde mouthed, to which Santana nodded.

"Oh, the battery must have died," she said sweetly. "I'll charge it when I get home."

"I take it you've eaten?" her mother asked. Santana frowned for a moment; was it really that late? One glance at the clock on Brittany's dashboard confirmed her suspicions.

"Um, yeah, we got takeout."

"And are you staying there?" Maribel asked. "You know, I'm still not sure about that Brittany girl."

"No, I'm on my way home now," Santana said, wanting nothing more than to hang up and focus on the fact that…you know…she was sat in a car likely travelling at three times the speed limit, with another car right behind them being driven by someone who was intending to hurt them.

"I thought Brittany said you were watching a movie?" her mother asked, and Santana just grimaced.

"Um…I gotta go," she said quickly. "I'll be home soon, promise!"

"But Santana, wait-" But the brunette hit end call before her mother could even finish her sentence.

"Great, so now on top of everything, you've got me lying to my parents!" she snapped, dropping Brittany's phone into her lap. Brittany just kept smiling.

They finally reached the end of the long alley, where Brittany sent them skidding round to the left. By now, Santana was bracing herself against the door almost subconsciously. Given how casually Brittany was behaving, she had to wonder if this wasn't the first time the blonde had found herself in such a situation. She looked out of her window, ignoring the industrial park still flying past and trying to work out exactly where they were now. She had no idea the abandoned buildings went on for so long, but was rather thankful that at least they weren't doing this on actual populated roads.

She looked over at Brittany, who appeared to be keeping her eyes directed not at the road itself, but at the edge of it. Santana was baffled, but the reason quickly became clear.

"Finally," Brittany said with exasperation. Santana she had little time to react before the car shook as it smashed into a large utility pole, uprooting the metal structure as though it were nothing more than a twig. It flew over the roof, prevented from moving much further by the countless wires and cables still attached to it. The Latina looked through the rear window, just in time to see the pole swing back and smash into the front of the pursuing car, shattering it's windshield. At last, it skidded to a halt, and quickly faded from view into the dark. Santana turned to Brittany, knowing she should feel angry; furious even, but quite honestly, all she felt was admiration.

And maybe a little arousal.

This girl had just saved her from god knows what fate, and in doing so, partially wrecked her own car; her pride and joy. Santana closed her eyes, leaning back in her seat. She felt a small bump, before the ride suddenly became a lot smoother, and she knew they were once again travelling on an actual road. She let out a deep breath, glancing sideways at Brittany, watching the way the streetlamps' light played over her face as they passed. The blonde looked at her for a moment, and for the first time that night, Santana felt her cheeks burning. Perhaps the adrenaline of being involved in an honest-to-god car chase was wearing off, but she suddenly felt rather inadequate sat next to this remarkable person.

**~xxx~**

After a silent drive, they arrived back at Santana's house. Brittany parked a little down the road, not wanting to alarm Santana's parents with the state her car was in. The blonde got out first, moving round to open the door for the other girl. Santana smiled as she was let out, but was quickly distracted when she saw two people approaching down the sidewalk: Artie and Nicole. The two of them looked both relieved and shocked.

"What's going on here?" Artie asked, coming to a stop.

"Is Sam with you?" Nicole asked. "We've been texting you guys all night."

But Brittany completely ignored them, instead turning to Santana. "Are you okay?" she asked, looking down at the brunette. Santana just nodded, and quickly found herself pulled into a tight embrace. It was only after a few seconds that she realised what was happening. Brittany was hugging her in front of her friends, not a care in the world. She smiled, and slowly returned it, sliding her arms into the blonde's jacket.

"Thank you," she murmured. Brittany remained silent, but it was pretty clearly she knew what Santana meant. It wasn't until Sam staggered out of the car that they looked up, remembering they had company.

"Dude, what the hell happened?" Artie asked, approaching Sam. "You said you weren't feeling well, then you said you and Santana were watching the shower alone, what gives?"

Sam just looked at him, then over at Brittany and Santana, before shaking his head and heading off down the sidewalk. Artie turned to Santana, looking expectant. She sighed. "One of Quinn Fabray's jock friends played a prank that got out of hand," she said, not even caring that her arms were still around her girlfriend's waist. "Brittany managed to get us out of there just in time."

"And you did that, why…?" Nicole asked, fixing Brittany with a searching look. The blonde gave a small smile, locking eyes with Santana.

"Brittany and I are…ah…" Santana managed a smiled of her own, before turning back to the others. "We're dating. Brittany's my girlfriend."

**~xxx~**

"You know," Brittany began, gazing up at her bedroom ceiling. "In hindsight, they could have taken it worse."

"You're only saying that because you thought Artie looked funny when he fainted in his chair," Santana pointed out, nudging the blonde in the ribs. "You're a mean girl, Brittany Pierce."

"Oh shut up," the taller girl snapped playfully. "Deny it was funny and you're a fucking liar."

They had been laying on Brittany's bed like this for hours, going over the previous day's events. Santana was genuinely amazed that their 'awesome movie scene car chase', as Brittany called it, hadn't been seen or caught on camera. Not that she was complaining; appearing on World's Wildest Police Chases wasn't exactly at the top of her to-do list. She had had an early night, complaining that all that 'homework' with Brittany had given her a headache, and retreated to the sanctuary of her bedroom. But the next morning, she was awoken by tapping on her window; Brittany once again deciding she was too good for the front door.

Her car's bodywork was being repaired by a family friend – one who apparently wouldn't ask questions – and so Brittany was on foot for once. Thankfully, it was a pleasant morning, and as they walked the entire way to Brittany's house, Santana couldn't ignore the definite spring in her step. Yes, she was still uncertain as to just how her friends would adjust to her dating Brittany, but quite honestly she was just glad the two of them were even still together, given the drama of the previous day. In fact, their calm walk to Brittany's was exactly what she needed, given the excitement of her white-knuckle ride home.

The sun was just beginning to fade behind the trees, when Santana heard a noise that was definitely not from within Brittany's room. She sat up, frowning at the half-open door. "What was that?"

Brittany just sighed. "It's Triple-F," the blonde answered. Santana frowned.

"Triple-F?" she repeated. "Isn't that the acronym for an all-female threesome?"

"Christ, no!" Brittany replied, fighting back laughter. "No, come on, I'll show you." She got to her feet, waiting for Santana to do the same. "Really? You want a threesome now? Damn, girl…"

"Shut up," Santana muttered, stalking past Brittany. "Just…shut up."

Brittany led her downstairs and into the kitchen. She had been given the grand tour that morning, so roughly knew her way around now – not that it stopped the enormous house from being any less intimidating in it's scale. She looked around expectantly, but finding nothing out of the ordinary, turned back to Brittany.

"Well?" she asked, frowning. Brittany just smirked.

"Look down."

Santana did as she was told, and gasped. Staring back up at her, was the fattest, grumpiest looking cat she had ever seen. It blinked at her, before looking over at Brittany.

"And Triple-F stands for…?" Santana asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fat Furry Fucker," Brittany replied, crossing her arms. "Isn't that right, Mister?"

The cat just glared.

"Brittany, that can't really be his name," Santana said incredulously. "Even you wouldn't be that mean."

"What do you mean 'even me'?" Brittany replied irritably. "Besides, it's not mean. That's what he is."

But Santana wasn't having any of it. She bent down to stroke the cat, giving him a little scratch behind the ears. "Bet you don't like being called names by the nasty girl, do you?"

"Oh…oh fine," Brittany muttered through gritted teeth, unable to make eye contact with either her girlfriend or her pet. "His name is…his name's Lord Tubbington."

It took a solid fifteen minutes for Santana to stop laughing.

**~xxx~**

By the time darkness had fallen, they were back in Brittany's room. Santana had asked to stay the night, and despite her mother's brief protests, had been allowed. Lord Tubbington was fast asleep in his basket near Brittany's bed, and the two girls were sat on the floor in the middle of the room, swapping stories. It was the first genuine heart-to-heart they had ever had, but given recent events, they both agreed it was about time. Santana had forgiven Brittany for hiding her past, despite her initial insistence that she couldn't, and in turn, Brittany had forgiven Santana for assuming the worst when she had first begun her tale.

"So let me get this straight," Santana was saying. "You ran for Senior Class President at your old school? And that was your…first time, in Senior Year?"

"Yup," Brittany replied, popping another piece of candy into her mouth. "Failed at the end of the year, so when I transferred t McKinley, I told them I was two years younger than I was so I could start in Junior year. At least give me some time to get my act together."

"So you're…"

"Twenty, yeah," Brittany replied. "And if you even think about calling me an 'older woman', I'll…" She pondered for a moment. "…I'll do something not very nice."

"Hard to look threatening with a gobstopper in your mouth, huh?" Santana teased, causing Brittany to just stick her blue-tinted tongue out at her.

"You wanted to date me," Brittany replied with a shrug. "You get the remnants of Unicorn-Brittany too."

Santana chuckled, leaning against the side of the blonde's bed. "I think I would have liked her."

Brittany gave a sad smile. "I think she would have liked you too." She was quiet for a moment, rolling the candy around her mouth, before looking up again. "But hey, you're not complaining, right?"

"I've never heard you sound so unsure. I thought that was my job?" Santana said, but when she saw how serious Brittany looked, she smiled and leant closer. "Of course I'm not. You're awesome, Brittany. And one of these days I'll figure out just why you want to be with a nobody like me."

"You're not a nobody, Specs," Brittany replied softly. "So what, you like comic books and sci-fi. Big fucking deal. I told you before – I'm not a bully. Sure, I can crush a man's skull like an egg, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna do it 'cos I feel like it. And I'm certainly not gonna think any less of you because you're different. Christ, that's why I like you in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Santana asked, well aware that the sombre look hadn't disappeared from Brittany's eyes.

"I…you're different," Brittany repeated. "Just like I was. But you haven't let all the crap they give you change who you are." She smiled, leaning her head back against the dresser behind her. "I guess…in many ways…you're stronger than I ever was."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Brittany slowly got to her feet. She padded over to her desk and checked the clock, letting out a low whistle.

"Damn, it's two in the morning," she said. Santana chuckled.

"You're the last person I expected to be worried about staying up late," she said, but Brittany just gave her a look.

"What, you think I keep in shape staying up til stupid o'clock?" she asked. "You realise I'm gonna have to work out for an extra half hour tomorrow just work burn off all the crap we've been eating tonight?"

"I'm not complaining," Santana said, suddenly feeling rather bold. "My girlfriend stays hot and I get to see her sweat. Great combination."

"Oh shut up you nerdy pervy girl," Brittany replied, rolling her eyes.

Santana smirked, subconsciously biting her lip. She had no idea where half her comments were coming from, but had long since given up questioning the effect Brittany had on her. She had always resented her inability to interact easily with people, but Brittany not only made it easy, but brought out a confidence she never knew she had. She just sat there smiling to herself for a moment, meaning that when Brittany slipped her bra off right in front of her, it took a few moments for it to register.

But when it did, the majority of her confidence said goodbye.

"Uhhh…what are you doing?" Santana asked quickly, unable to take her eyes off of Brittany's completely bare back. The blonde just shrugged again.

"…getting changed?" she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why, what's the problem?" And with that, she slid her pants off. Fighting to maintain her composure and ignore the sight of those distractingly toned thighs, Santana struggled to her feet, leaning against the bed for support. Even as Brittany stepped out of the jeans pooled around her feet, leaving her in nothing but a pair of boyshorts, she maintained her casual demeanour. "You okay over there?"

Far from okay, Santana felt close to a freaking nervous breakdown.

But her silence proved her undoing, and with no further distractions, Brittany swiftly pulled the last vestments of underwear off, leaving her completely bare. Santana's heart was in her throat, eyes unable to look away, nor able to choose a single spot and focus upon it. Even with her back turned, it was quite obvious that Brittany was grinning.

"Don't tell me you've never seen another girl naked before?" the blonde teased. "And no, your extensive porn collection doesn't count." She raised a hand to silence any potential interruptions. "And don't argue – I've been under your bed, remember?"

Santana gave an almost cartoonish gulp, wondering just where all the moisture from her throat had decided to go.

Oh wait.

Crossing her legs a little, the Latina braced herself for the inevitable, and seconds later, it happened. Ever-so-slowly, Brittany turned on the spot, her smile not faltering for even a moment, watching with barely contained delight as Santana's dark eyes seemed to light up like fireworks. If she had thought Brittany was stunning with just her stomach and arms on show, it was nothing compared to seeing it all at once. She was so unprepared that it was probably a small miracle she was even able to remain standing while her eyes raked over the blonde's naked body.

"Something wrong, Specs?" Brittany teased, folding her arms across her breasts. "You're looking a little ill."

"You're beautiful…" Santana murmured before she could stop herself. "Brittany, I…oh my god…"

The blonde smiled, and slowly stepped towards the other girl. "Well if this doesn't convince you I wanna be with you, I'm all out of tricks."

"I…" the Latina croaked, looking back up to Brittany's bright eyes. Only this time they weren't so bright; on the contrary, they were decidedly dark; half-lidded and full of something Santana wasn't sure she recognised. "Brittany, I…"

"Shhhhh…" The taller girl leant forwards briefly, placing a gentle kiss upon Santana's lips. "Come on, your turn."

"I…_what?_" Santana shook her head, stepping back until her legs hit the bed. "I can't…"

"Sure you can," Brittany said, smile never fading. "I mean, I'm not gonna force you, but…" She looked down at her with those damnable eyes again, and all too-soon, Santana felt her self-restraint melting away.

"Okay," she said simply. She was surprised by her own voice for a moment, as her mind caught up with her decision. Brittany's smile only widened. The blonde was about to step back, but Santana instinctively reached out and grabbed her wrist. "But...but I want you to help."

It was a painfully slow process, having Brittany remove each and every garment one by one. Rather surprisingly, the athletic girl's own nudity seemed to distract Santana from her own. Only when Brittany's bare leg brushed against her own did Santana's embarrassment flare up, causing her to take a deep, shuddering breath. By now, she was down to her underwear, and feeling incredibly self-conscious. Part of her felt coerced; forced into this. It was made all the more intimidating by Brittany's silence; she hadn't said a word since she had started removing her girlfriend's clothing. But almost as soon as the thought crossed Santana's mind, the blonde finally found her voice.

"Jesus Christ…" she muttered, eyes roving up and down Santana's stomach. The Latina instantly feared the worst; prepared herself to push Brittany away. "Half the girls on the Cheerios don't have abs like yours."

"I…what…?" Santana was surprised, to say the least.

"I mean it," Brittany insisted, gentle grazing a finger down the middle of the brunette's belly. "You…damn, Specs, what's your secret? You're built like a fucking supermodel under here!"

"No I'm not, I-"

"Yes. You are." And before Santana could protest further, she was pulled into a firm kiss. It lasted only for a moment, but it was enough to quell her nerves, at least in that respect. It didn't change that fact that she was stood there in her underwear, next to a completely naked Brittany Pierce.

Satisfied, the blonde gentle ran a finger along Santana's shoulder, sending a shiver down the Latina's spine before she even reached the strap of her simple white bra. But once she had, she gently hooked her finger beneath it, and began dragging it aside at a torturously slow pace. Santana couldn't tell whether Brittany was trying to be teasing or polite, though she had a strong suspicion it was the former. She felt the strap slip completely from her shoulder, hanging uselessly at her side. Brittany wasn't quite as ponderous with the other side, and soon that too was removed. Though Santana wasn't entirely sure why she was bothering to take it so slow; it wasn't going anywhere until she could get at her back. Maybe she really was trying to give her more time to back out.

But Santana knew that wasn't an option; not now. The confidence Brittany often imbued her with was returning, and moments later she found herself turning without even being prompted. Brittany wasted no time in unclasping her underwear, but she didn't touch it further.

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly, to which Santana just nodded. There was no way she would ever be able to do this and not be nervous, but there was also no way she would ever be able to say no.

With deft hands, Brittany finally pulled the garment from her girlfriend's body, casually tossing it to the side as soon as she was able. With her back turned, Santana's chest was still hidden from Brittany's view. But with a deep breath, the brunette bit the bullet and quickly turned back to face the other girl. Brittany was clearly surprised, but judging by her growing smile, it wasn't in a bad way.

"Holy fucking crap…" the blonde said, almost sounding disbelieving. "Who would have thought you were hiding those all this time…?"

"What did you think was in there?" Santana shot back, unable to take her eyes away from Brittany's lest, she catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror opposite the bed.

"Well you always insist on wearing those damn baggy hoodies, I…" Brittany trailed off, unashamedly looking down at Santana's breasts. "Wow." She chuckled. "Just…wow."

As soon as she was done leering, Brittany slowly reached for Santana's waistline, but the brunette stopped her, grabbing her wrist again. Brittany gave her an enquiring look, but Santana just smiled.

"I've got this," she said, releasing the taller girl's hand. Brittany let it fall back to her side, watching in amazement as slowly, Santana slipped her underwear from her body. She didn't know what made her do it; maybe she wanted to prove that she wanted this herself, and wasn't just giving in to what Brittany wanted. Either way, with that final action, she now stood just as bare as the other girl. "There," she said matter-of-factly. "Done."

"…yeah," the blonde murmured, looking her up and down. "I…goddamnit, look what you've done to me. I was expecting to maybe have to put on a little act or something to make you feel good, but…just…_fuck_." She took a step back, still looking the other girl up and down. "You're fucking stunning, Santana. You…just…yeah. I can't even find the right words."

"Well…you're not too bad yourself," Santana teased, feeling almost giddy that she had actually done as Brittany asked.

"C'mere," Brittany breathed, reaching forward and pulling the other girl into her. Santana's breath hitched as their breasts touched for the first time, but she quickly lost herself in the embrace, nuzzling into the blonde's shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmured. Brittany pulled back slightly, giving her a quizzical look. "Not just for this. For…well, everything. God, that sounds like a bad movie line, doesn't it?"

"A little," the taller girl teased. "But under the circumstances, I think I'll let you off. I can't believe you actually did this for me…"

"You make it sound like seeing me naked has fulfilled your life," Santana said, managing a small smile. "I'm just the same as every other girl. I have all the same bits and pieces."

"Specs, your bits and pieces would make most girls in the world genuinely jealous," Brittany said, giving her a little squeeze. "You have no idea how lucky I'm feeling right now."

"I just…wanted to share everything with you," Santana began, not quite sure what she was even trying to say. "You're…you're everything to me, Brittany. When I'm with you, I feel like everything's right. I _know_ everything's right."

"You know…" Brittany said, looking up over Santana's head for a moment. "It…it doesn't have to stop here. I mean, only if you-"

"Yes."

"…what?"

She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment. "I know what you want, Brittany. And the answer is yes."

"Santana…are you-"

The Latina silenced Brittany with a finger to the lips. "Shut up." And without another word, replaced it with her own mouth. The kiss was tender at first; almost gentle, but all too quickly, heat began to rise on both sides, and Brittany pulled away. Santana looked surprised, but not nearly as surprised as she did moments later, when the taller girl pushed her back onto the bed.

Almost instinctively, Santana reached up to remove the last thing she was wearing. But then Brittany did something she didn't expect. The blonde reached down, and stayed her hand.

"Wait…" Under Brittany's touch, Santana allowed her hands to be guided back down, away from her face. "Leave your glasses on."

Santana swallowed, and nodded.

She might have been the one to say yes, but there was no doubt over whom was in control now. Brittany seemed to glide over her, hands and knees placed carefully to prevent any contact. Santana could see each and every muscle of the blonde's athletic body tensing and tightening as she moved over her, muscles rippling just beneath her skin. She felt almost timid, trying her hardest not to stare at the other girl's shapely behind, or the way Brittany's breasts were nearly hovering directly over her. The taller girl seemed to sense her hesitation, leaning down to place a chaste kiss against her full lips.

"You can put your hands anywhere you think they should go…" she said huskily, once again planting her mouth softly against Santana's.

It was only seconds after they parted that Santana began to miss the contact of Brittany's lips, and gently pulled the blonde's smiling face down again for more. In mere minutes, they went from soft, feather light pecks, to open mouthed wet kisses; frantic and breathy. But despite the passion with which their tongues met, the whole time Brittany kept herself propped up on her palms, restraining from all contact except mouth to mouth. Santana could tell that Brittany was already growing desperate for the pace to increase; for their bodies to meet completely. But if they were really going to do this, it had to be perfect, and thankfully Brittany seemed to be keeping that in the forefront of her mind. The Latina let out a gentle sigh as her girlfriend's mouth made it's way to her jaw, leaving a trail of surprisingly light kisses down to her collarbone. The sensation was amazing; nothing she had ever imagined or dreamed of, resulting in a few breathy moans. Santana's hips were contracting underneath her, acting of their own free will in a desperate attempt for friction with the girl still just out of reach above her. Brittany inched her mouth down toward Santana's earlobe and gently tugged with her teeth.

"So fucking sexy…" she whispered, breath tickling heated flesh. Santana replied with another moan, her hand seeking contact and caressing Brittany's ribcage. But it didn't stop there, tracing her firm torso before slowly moving upward. Brittany let out a throaty chuckle, clearly growing impatient and and pulling the brunette's hand to her right breast. Santana looked up to the other girl for approval, and upon finding nothing but satisfaction in those deep eyes, she began fixate solely on the soft, round flesh cupped into her hand. She caressed it for what felt like an eternity, before – remembering how it often went in the stories she had read – moved over to the other one, giving it the same treatment. Above her, Brittany's soft sighs and occasional moans goaded her on, giving her absolutely no reason to stop. Soon, her actions became more precise; fingers beginning to stroke soft circles around Brittany's rosy nipples. Santana almost let out a noise of surprise as she felt them harden beneath her touch, not quite able to believe that she was able to get such a reaction from the other girl. Brittany exhaled in pleasure, the sound travelling right through Santana; she felt more and more wetness pool between her legs, so much so that it was starting to aggravatingly slide against her most sensitive nerve endings. Just know that she was here, in bed with Brittany Pierce, feeling _those_ feelings in _those_ places, was almost enough to drive her over the edge then and there.

Letting out a shaky breath of her own, Brittany leaned her head down and kissed the crease between Santana's breasts, causing the shorter girl's back to arch almost violently. It became only more forceful when she gently squeezed the flesh within her hand, kneading it firmly with her strong fingers.

"So perfect…" the blonde sighed, resting a cheek against the other side of Santana's chest. She peppered kisses around her breasts, but saved her nipples for last. Her tongue dipped out against light brown buds, and after several agonising minutes of teasing, she allowed her mouth to close completely around one. Her tongue tickled against the sensitive skin, eliciting a series of even louder moans from the writhing Latina.

"Brittany…" she breathed, voice straining as she fought to keep at least some of her composure.

"That feel good?" Brittany asked, cracking her usual grin as her hand traced down Santana's stomach. The brunette bit her lip, managing little more than a nod in response. Long fingers traced hipbones, almost light enough to tickle at first, before making their way down towards Santana's thighs. The brunette knew exactly where Brittany was headed, and in a vain effort to at least prolong the moment, grabbed her roughly, lacing her fingers within tangled blonde hair and pulling the taller girl into a deep, frantic kiss. Despite the distraction, it wasn't long before Brittany tested the waters, ghosting her fingertips against Santana's soft, inner thighs. The Latina's hips pushed upward again, this time making contact with Brittany's skin. The blonde hummed with approval, kissing her deeply one last time before sliding down her girlfriend's body, peppering her shimmering skin with further kisses as she went.

Her head situated between Santana's legs, she looked up with those half-lidded eyes again. Santana could only meet them for mere moments before the sight became too much, and she collapsed back into the pillow, one of her own fingers firmly between her teeth as a distraction. But what little relief it offered was shattered when Brittany's lips made contact with her thigh, leaving a trail of fire against her skin as she moved ever higher. Santana wasn't nervous, but was still eternally grateful when she felt Brittany's hand seek her own out, their fingers interlocking tightly. As for the blonde's other hand, it gently slid down the Latina's hot core, earning a shivered gasp from Santana. Brittany's fingers were gentle, rubbing against it back and forth; teasing but also preparing. It was no secret that Santana had never done this before, but clearly Brittany knew exactly what to do to make it nothing but enjoyable. But despite her confidence in Brittany; her trust in this wonderful girl, Santana couldn't help but feel self-conscious like this, laid out before her girlfriend in such a way. But all those worries were quickly chased from her mind as Brittany lifted her index finger to her mouth and tasted Santana, licking them clean after their earlier teasing.

"Fuck, you taste good," she whispered, and Santana knew in that instant that she wasn't exaggerating or lying for her benefit; the blonde was truly enjoying this just as much as the girl beneath her.

And moments later, Brittany finally lowered her lips to Santana's exposed core and kissed her there, lingering for a good few seconds for slowly pulling away, her breath washing over the burning flesh. Seemingly satisfied, she reached up again, stroking up and down ever so gently with her long fingers. By now, Santana was quite literally writhing against her girlfriend's touch, leaning into it as much as her position would allow.

"You ready for me, babe?"

Brittany's voice cut through the thick air like a knife; never had Santana heard anyone speak to her like that; never had she dreamed that anyone ever would. All she could manage was one final nod before, with a final kiss again placed against her slick folds, a single finger slid within them.

"Fuck, Santana," Brittany murmured, breath tickling against her skin.

But whatever Brittany was feeling, it was absolutely nothing compared to the sensations filling Santana's mind at that moment. Never had she imagined it would be anything like this; never, in all her experimentations, had she ever been prepared for the sensations currently filling her from head to toe. Just knowing that someone was doing this to her, and that that someone was Brittany, was already almost too much to handle.

"Shit…" Santana couldn't help but let out a rare expletive, each and every breath growing louder and louder.

Brittany began a steady rhythm, and before too much longer added a second long finger to join the first, forcing Santana's back into an even more prominent arch as she struggled to process the feelings spreading from her core. Brittany's mouth settled around her girlfriend's burning clit, pressing a soft kiss there, before extending her tongue out and licking upwards in one slow movement. Santana felt her hands clenching into fists around the sheets, holding onto them as if her life depending on it. Brittany repeated her licking motion, again and again as her fingers continued their work. It wasn't long before Santana felt herself coming undone. Despite it being the first time experiencing it; despite her mind being an almost complete blank, she knew what was building inside her. And judging by the increasing pace of her movements, so did Brittany.

The Latina's eyes had long since closed, and as she felt her hips tensing more and more, she released the sheets from one hand, bringing it up to her forehead. For a moment, she dared to open her eyes, and found Brittany staring back at her. If her blue eyes had shown a hint at something unknown before, they were now full of it. Santana still had no idea what it was; was it too much to hope that it was a mirror for her own feelings? Could it really be that?

She had little time to consider the possibilities, as with one last firm push and a final stroke of her tongue, Brittany brought her crashing to release.

It took at least a few moments for Santana to even remember where she was, let alone what she was doing there. She blinked, eyelids slightly sore from being screwed up so tightly and for so long. Above her, Brittany's face swam into view, framed by a tangled mane of golden strands. The blonde just smiled, before slowly sliding her arms beneath the other girl, her sweat slicked skin making it easy. And then, in one swift motion, she rolled them over, allowing Santana to rest atop her. The feeling of Brittany's entire body against her own was indescribable; Santana was pretty sure it would take a long time to ever fully get used to it, if at all. She felt strong arms encircle her; one hand placed against her lower back, the other between her shoulder blades.

The Latina let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes once more.

"I love you," she murmured, before her brain could catch up with her and tell her that maybe, that wasn't such a good idea.

Well shit.

Suddenly, the warm afterglow seemed very distant. Santana's faculties returned with full force, allowing her to take note of the way Brittany had suddenly stiffened beneath her. The brunette swallowed, not even daring to breath. But as the need for oxygen became too great, she started to shift away, wanting to be anywhere but in that bed, with this girl, after blurting out those three words.

But Brittany didn't let her.

Instead, she first relaxed her hold. And then, if anything, she tightened it, pressing her face against Santana's dark hair.

"I love you, too."


End file.
